


Home

by LeMangeLumiere



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - 1940s, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Mermaids, Angst with a Happy Ending, Ballroom Dancing, Chapter 7 is my favorite, Dancing, Dirty Thoughts, Drunken Kissing, Drunken Shenanigans, F/M, French Kissing, Frottage, Gaelic Language, Gentle Kissing, Jack is maybe 40, Jack's too old for this shit, Little Mermaid Elements, Lonely Jack, Loving Sex, Massage, Masturbation, Mermaid Reader, Mermaid/Human Relationship, Music, Nudity, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Princess and Pearl, Reader is maybe 20, Reader-Insert, Romantic Fluff, Sailor - Freeform, Sailor AU, Sailor Jack Morrison, Scottish Gaelic, Sex, Sexual Tension, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Swing Dancing, Tattoos, You have two nicknames, fisherman, mermaid
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-03
Updated: 2018-01-14
Packaged: 2019-02-27 15:54:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 30,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13251561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeMangeLumiere/pseuds/LeMangeLumiere
Summary: Jack Morrison was no hero. He was no fairytale prince, eager for adventures. He was a sailor and a fisherman, pure and simple. He was a lonely, bitter, broken old man who had left the idea of love behind. But it was about time he flexed his hero muscles - after all, who was he to deny a mermaid?





	1. First Encounters

In all of his years at sea, Jack Morrison had never once pulled anything but fish from the sea. He and a few of his friends, a cowboy named Jesse and a close old friend named Gabriel often went fishing on his tug boat turned fisherman's boat, fondly named "Faire Lady". They would go out, catch a few fish and drag them home, splitting them three ways. Jesse's share went to his family, Gabriel's share went to his shop, and Jack's share... well, it was just him. But this particular day would change his life forever.

The sky had darkened, turning a menacing gray as heavy clouds rolled lazily over head, flecks of rain pouring down. 

"Shit, look's like it's gettin' nasty!" Jesse shouted, firmly pushing his cowboy hat onto his head. Gabriel let out a curse, heading to the rig controls.

"Let's pick up and head home." Jack cursed, rushing over to the netting and leaning just over the edge of the boat. Gabriel began the crank, pulling the creaky netting out of the dark water. He saw fish: so many fish. Almost too many for his netting to handle! 

"Damn boys, we've got a big one today!" He called out, grabbing a fistful of netting and wrenching it closer, ready to pull it over the edge of the boat. As the netting began to enclose, growing closer and closer to the side of the boat, Jack's heart stopped and his blood froze. Within the piles of fish, mostly buried, lay a young woman. Her hair flung about, her skin pale with death and eyes closed. He had caught a dead body. Jack finally managed to find his voice over the wild whistling wind, keeping his eyes on the girl.

"There's a body!" He cried, leaning down even closer. The fish flopped mercilessly about, smacking against her bare chest, and one slapped against her face, falling beside her. Her eyes shot open, and Jack was greeted with the brightest eyes he had ever seen. Wait, she was alive! His hand shot out, open wide and grabbing. His fingers were so close, almost brushing against her skin. She leapt up, pulling herself up with the netting, leaning further and further away from his hand. Her eyes were wide, brows furrowed in fear, her wet hair clinging to her face and bare breasts. 

"Come on!" Jack lunged forward even further, his hand just before her face. In a flash, she opened her mouth and clamped down on the flesh above his thumb, sinking down and drawing blood.

"Ah, shit!" He cried out, ripping his hand from her teeth. Her lips were stained red with his blood, and both Jesse and Gabriel rushed to his side, watching on in confusion. "Come on, damnit!" Jack finally managed to grab her thin arm, wrestling with her and yanking her over the side, tumbling both her and several fish onto the deck. As she flopped to the ground, the rest of her fell from the fish, open to the view of the three men. 

Her... tail, elongated like an elegant fish, was as blue as sapphires. Even in the gray and rainy afternoon her scales shone like gems, but Jack felt his heart clench tightly at the sheer length of it, almost like a snake tail, coiling around her and ending with a wide sheer fin. She had two thinner, long fins on her hips, like an exotic fish. She wore a strand of strange jewelry about her neck, fashioned from pearls and several broken pieces of shells, all white and soft pink. The pearls ranged in colors from white to gray, yellows and greens and stone blues. They stood out against her skin and long hair. Gabriel took several steps back, reaching for the golden cross on his neck.

"Ay dios mio..." He mumbled, looking down in fear. Gabriel had heard the stories of Sirens, how they ate human flesh and were able to seduce even the most intelligent and strongest of men into the deadly seas. He couldn't find the strength to pull Jack and Jesse away, his feet frozen solid on the now sopping wet deck. Jack kneeled down, nursing his bleeding hand and keeping it close to his chest. His cloudy blue eyes shot into hers, full of anger and confusion. What on earth had he caught? He turned, speaking loudly to Jesse.

"Take us to shore." He ordered. Jesse nodded, eyes lingering on her blue tail as he stumbled over to the wheel. The rain now pelted sharply all over Jack, soaking his dark blue turtleneck and black pants. He continued to stare her down, watching each twitch and movement she made. She was completely undeterred by the rain, though her body showed it reacted to the cold, but he tried to remove his eyes from her supple breasts. She was a beautiful creature, with the long tail and her full frame, hair framing her body. He understood what mermaids looked like, basically, but somehow she was different. She was darker, perhaps, unlike the fairytale drawings. Her tail was the blue of the deepest oceans, and her long hair... she was a thrill to look at. He ran his non-bloodied hand through his white hair, letting out an irritated grumble. What on earth was he supposed to do with her? She stared him down, her once terrified face now one of pure determination, her brows furrowed over her deep bright eyes.

"Dachaigh." Jack's eyes shot open wide, and his whole mouth went dry. Her nearly gray lips moved so softly, he hadn't even realized she had spoken before an ethereal voice reached his ears, ringing in his head. So she spoke. That was one question answered, he thought to himself. It did give him about a hundred more, but he knew better than to forgo what he had been given, so he satisfied himself with the fact that she had done something other than glare bitterly at him.

"What?" He grumbled irritated, running his hand even harder through his thick hair.

"Dachaigh!" She shouted, leaning forward on her arms. She was feisty, her eyes full of determination. If only he understood what she meant. 

"Land ho!" Jesse shouted, shaking Jack from his own thoughts. Sure enough, there was the gray and dreary beach they had set off from. The dock was empty, as usual. It has it's perks being to local weirdo, no one neared his beach. Jack finally stood, his lower back aching and his knees cracking. It was easy enough getting docked, but Gabriel had practically flown to deck, grabbing his things and rushing off, his boots sinking into the sand.

"Where the hell are you going, Gabriel?!" Jack shouted, cupping his hands over his mouth. Gabriel turned around only once, replying before he burst off towards the road where he had parked his motorbike.

"I'm not getting eaten by a Sirena!" Jack let out an irritated sigh, turning around once more. Jesse had sat himself by her side, reaching his fingers closer and closer to her tail.

"Don't touch her!" Jack warned. She was lightning fast, but Jesse was just a second faster. Her teeth clicked as she barely missed chomping down on his fingers, his hand flew and smacked to his chest as he was nearly flung back, landing his ass squarely on deck. Jack rushed over, taking the second of hesitation and grabbing the end of her tail, just before her fin and lifting it up. Her head bashed against the deck as she wriggled and writhed, fighting desperately to get out of his grasp.

"Grab her arms, Jesse!" He called out, careful to miss her swinging arms. Jesse somehow managed to wrestle her into his grasp, her arms spread too far to move. She was now sandwiched between the two men who lifted her with ease, making their way over to the dock. Jack cursed his his boots made contact with the wood of the dock, she was almost too feisty! She tried her best to escape as the two men gingerly shuffled off the dock, back to the water once more. 

"On three." Jack remarked, turning his eyes out to the sea. Perhaps it was for the best he let her go. He hadn't thought of a plan anyhow, he couldn't think that fast. He had not only met her a few moments prior, but he also had discovered a mythologic creature trapped in his netting. That was going to take a while to comprehend. On three, the two of them flung her out to the sea, letting her splash unceremoniously in the water. Before she could recover, Jack grabbed Jesse's fore arm and wrenched him close, walking away from the sea.

"Dachaigh!" She shrieked, clawing her way into the sand. But she couldn't make it very far inland, the sand rubbing against her scales and drying her out. She let out a cry, reaching towards the two men. Jesse watched on in pity, but Jack steeled himself. He didn't know what she wanted, and frankly, he didn't care. He would leave mermaid business to the mermaids, and he would continue his boring life. 

Jesse had finally left, a little upset about leaving the fish, but even more upset at the fact that they had both left the strange mermaid crying on the beach. Her cries had ended hours ago, and Jack sat quite comfortably beside the roaring fire, now in warm and dry clothes, a cup of whiskey in his hand and a blanket across his legs. In moments of silence like these, the scars on his face ached, and his tight muscles burned from years of overuse. He was a sailor, plain and simple. He had tattoos, he had scars, and he had stories. He wasn't the hero, or the guy who got the girl. He was Jack Morrison, the town weirdo who kept to himself on the abandoned part of the island, near the lighthouse. He was the least likely candidate for a fairytale, he didn't know a single thing about mermaids.

His little pity party was interrupted by the bashing of his door. Jack let out a rough sigh as he clambered from his chair, heading towards the door. It was probably Gabriel, miffed about the lack of fish. It was his own damn fault Jack thought, he ran off. The bashing continued and Jack grumbled,

"Alright, I hear you!" The moment he opened the door was the moment he knew he was no longer regular Jack Morrison. She stood there, with two long legs, completely buck naked, her eyes still full of determination. Her wet hair clung to her shapely body. Her bright eyes were piercing.

"Dachaigh." Jack looked at her, dropping his glass of whiskey all over the hardwood floor.

"Well shit."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pronunciation corner!
> 
> Dachaigh
> 
> Da-k-hi 
> 
>  
> 
> So the "pale" that I have mentioned is not a skin tone, but instead a pale that any "dead body" can get. I also apologize for forcing you to have long hair, but in this case you are a mythical creature who does not have access to scissors. I'm trying my best to keep these features vague enough for you to join in this story. And with the third person writing context, it is less of you thinking of what you are doing, but instead you reading a story about yourself that focuses on Jack and his thoughts. I hope this clears up any confusion!


	2. Firelight

Jack watched her for a moment, his eyes falling down her shivering form. She was bold, walking all the way to his house. He wondered idly how she had managed to find it, perhaps she watched him as he had returned home. his eyes trailed back up, meeting hers once more. He hadn't known that mermaids could grow legs. Or did they have legs and grow tails? He had no idea. The whiskey burnt his nose, wafting from the wet floorboards below. He took a step for the side, opening the door wide enough for her to enter.

"Come in, you'll freeze to death." He grumbled. He watched as she slowly limped in, her legs quivering beneath her weight. Her legs and arms were covered in sand, and he wondered how long it had taken her to stand on her own two feet. She stood awkwardly in the center of the room, turning and watching him intently as he closed the door, leaning down to pick up the empty cup and briskly walking over to the kitchen to grab a small towel. He wiped up the whiskey, tossing the wet towel into the sink as the glasses and dishes clinked. He really needed to wash his dishes, they were piling up. He returned his attention to the naked girl. His eyes trailed down, stopping on her hardened nipples. His face burst into heat as he forced himself to look away, his eyes fixed on the wall.

"Take a seat." He lifted his hand towards the chair he previously had sat in, his nice blue blanket now discarded on the floor. She trembled over, her knees knocking into each other as she clumsily sat, sinking into the well used chair. His boots made the floor boards creak as he marched over, leaning to pick up the blanket and tossing it to her, keeping his eyes glued to the wall behind him. The shivering girl brought the blanket to her face, giving it a deep whiff. 

"What?" He mumbled, turning to see her once more, his hand shoved roughly into his hair. "Does it stink?" He looked into her eyes. She held the blanket in her hands, one palm pushing the material flush against her cheek and luckily it covered enough for him to be able to look at her without... ideas. His loins burned at the sight of her in the firelight, her bare thighs, her long, flowing hair, and those plump lips - He took a hold of one of his old dining room chairs, made completely out of wood, and planted it down before her, taking a seat and leaning down, pressing his elbows into his knees as his hands folded beneath his chin. Her eyes flickered softly in the firelight, and his face felt warm again. She was pretty, unusually and uniquely pretty. And he had seen pretty before. Usually, pretty was blond, thin and bubbly. He saw pretty on tv, in magazines and on the naughty pin-up calendars Gabriel always brought him that he couldn't make himself throw away. But this mermaid was a new kind of pretty. Her brows were thicker, and her lashes were just as thick and long. Her hair, steadily drying, was longer than the blondes he was so used to seeing. Maybe his type was changing. And she wasn't thin, but full. She would feel soft and fill his whole hand, he imagined. 

"Dachaigh." She whispered, looking softly into his eyes. He scratched the back of his head as he leaned back into the uncomfortable wooden chair.

"Yeah, I heard you the first time, Princess." He insisted. He spread his legs, falling in the chair and, somehow, finding himself relaxing. He looked at her through hooded eyes. "What's it mean?" She turned her head about, looking for something amongst his many cluttered tables. She got up, still clutching the blanket close, and scuffled over to his desk, pushing several books aside. He got a good look at her ass, and his loins burned once more. She turned to look into his eyes, a single finger pointing on the surface of the table. Jack let out a tired sigh, pulling himself out of the chair and shuffling over to her side, keeping his hands pressed tightly against his hips. Her finger was pressed against a map, the tip on the very top point of Scotland. A low growl rumbled from his lips, his eyes cast down. It was a long way to Scotland from America.

"So that's... da..." His eyes flickered up to her again.

"Dachaigh." She confirmed. He nodded slowly.

"Right, right..." What on earth was she saying? Did she want to go there? Was she from there? How'd she get here, anyhow? Why was she asking him? Why him?

"So, what, you live there? That's home?" He clarified, slamming his open hand against the desk. Several books that had been teetering on the edge fell to the floor in a clatter, and the girl nearly leapt out of her skin.

"Shit, sorry Princess." He was always so rough, with everything. With everyone. No wonder he didn't have a wife. He closed his eyes, his fingers rubbing against his temples. So she lived in Scotland, how had she gotten to far away from home? And how was he going to get her back? There was a soft clatter against the table before him, and when his eyes cracked open he saw her hand, slowly withdrawing, leaving her necklace in a pile before him. He looked into her eyes again, his brows clenched in confusion. Why was she giving him her necklace? Was it... payment? He grabbed the necklace and lifted it closer to his face, examining it. It was made of many colorful pearls, real pearls, and broken pieces of shells all collected haphazardly on a thin hemp string. The pearls were all decent sizes, some of them nearly as big as his thumbnail, others barely the size of his pinky. They would fetch him a pretty penny, if he sold the pearls by themselves. When their eyes met once more, hers were filled to the brim with tears, nearly overflowing. It was obviously a treasure of hers. His heart ached in his chest and he sighed wearily, holding the necklace out to her.

"I can't take this from you, Princess." She eyes his hand warily, her eyes falling on where she had bitten him. He had managed to stop the bleeding, wrapped tightly with gauze. She dropped the blanket, raising her two hands palm up to his hand, cupping it gently. Her fingers were cold, but they touched his hand so gently, it sent a shiver through his old body. He really hadn't touched a woman in what felt like decades, his body was depraved of the softness. She brought his hand to her lips, placing a soft, chaste kiss on the top of his hand before taking the necklace in one hand and nuzzling her cheek into his open palm, careful not to press too hard. He had to pull his hand away, jarring her attention. His eyes fell regretfully to the floor, gazing at his black boots.

"I'm too tired for this shit." He shuffled over to his plush chair, practically collapsing into it's softness. She followed shyly after him, still holding her necklace in her delicate hands. He cracked a single eye open, gazing down her body once more. He really couldn't help it, as much as he wanted to. She just looked so - so touchable. So soft, and his rough, calloused hands yearned to touch, to stroke and pinch and -

"You can use my bed." He grumbled, pushing his palm against his sore eyes. He really was going to Hell, wasn't he? She was just a kid, compared to him. Sure, she filled out her adult body well, but he was at least 20 years older. And she wasn't even human, surely there was a Bible passage or something that spoke against the sexual relations between a human and a mermaid. But she was so alluring - he cracked his eye open once more. Her brows were furled in confusion, her head cocked to one side, her hair cascading down her shoulders and her lips puffy and pouting. She was going to be the death of him. He once more pulled himself to his feet, and his calloused fingers wrapped gently around her wrist, tugging her to the adjoining room. His bedrooms was simple - shockingly so. There was his -ahem- calendar, a small window looking out at the sea, a closet and his unmade bed. He pulled the blankets up into his arms, making his bed to the best of his abilities. He had always been a little messy, but it seemed like she didn't mind. He pulled back the covers and patted the bed, motioning for her to lay down. She shuffled around him, placing herself onto the bed, her body sinking into the mattress, the springs creaking loudly. She sat and waited, looking up expectantly at him. He grumbled and dropped the blanket, kneeling down and wrapping a single hand around her left ankle.

"Lay down." He ordered, pulling her left leg up and pushing it onto the bed, shortly joined by her other leg. Her skin was so soft beneath his touch, and his fingers trailed up her leg as he stood up, pushing the palm of his hand against her shoulders. She practically sprawled across the bed, her leg askew, arms apart and chest exposed. She pursed her lips, waiting patiently. 

"Go to sleep!" He shouted, practically ripping the blankets over her and storming from the room, smashing himself against his soft chair. What on earth was the matter with him? With her? She seemed to trust him so completely now, was it because he had given her necklace back? There was shuffling from the next room, but before long it was quiet, and after an hour or so, she was asleep. His whole body released all of it's tension and he melted into his chair. Could he be trusted? He looked down at his pants, which had formed a small tent. Shit, he hadn't had an erection in a while. Sure, he may be old but his body still yearned, and every so often he would have to relieve himself of his animalistic urges. He had no clue what to do, and his hands instinctively went down, fingers pulling the button out and digging beneath to withdraw his stiffening cock. He gave it an experimental squeeze and let out a shaky breath, slowly pumping up and down. He couldn't concentrate on just one thing. He imagined her, writhing beneath him, and his more rational side wondered just how he was supposed to get her to Scotland. He was overwhelmed with confusion and images of soft flesh, and he came much faster than he had hoped. He looked down at his hand in shame. She trusted him, or at least it seemed like she did, and what was the first thing he did when she left the room? Masturbate while thinking of her. He got up and washed his hands, treading carefully and using only enough water to wash away his sin, careful not to wake her with the sound of the tap. First thing, he thought to himself as he settled back into his chair.

First thing tomorrow he would go and see what he could do to get to Scotland. 

That night, his dreams were full of water, crystal blue and unbelievably clear. He saw her, with her sapphire tail, and her hair floating about her like angel wings. She had a smile, showing her pearly white teeth, and she leaned in, giving him a kiss. His whole body felt warm, and he heard a soft song twinkle through his mind as he looked at her. 

"Tha gaol agam ort."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pronunciation corner :
> 
> Tha gaol agam ort. 
> 
> Ha goll agum ort.


	3. Mermaid's ain't cheap

Morning came as a terrible shock to Jack. The sun shone right into his eyes, jerking him from his sleep, and his whole body ached from the odd angle he had fallen asleep in. His eyes fell to the girl, who sat patiently on the floor just before him, the blue blanket wrapped around her. The fire had long since died, and the sound of rain pattered gently on the roof. The moment she met his tired eyes she leapt onto her feet, letting the blue blanket fall to the ground. Still naked, he thought nervously, but still deathly pale, her skin slowly graying. She rushed over to the door, placing her hands on it and pushing at the dark wood, her knuckles turning white from force. She pushed for a moment longer before looking back, her eyes wide and her lips all pouty. Jack let out a chuckle, rubbing his scratchy chin.

"You want out?" He called gently, his voice hoarse from sleep. He struggled to stand, his legs still burning from the day before, and hobbled over to the door. Some mornings he really felt his age. His hand fell to the doorknob and he gave it a good twist, wrenching the lock mechanism free and giving it a generous push, creaking wide open. Like lightning she was gone, practically flying to the water. She dove in, the cold water splashing all about her as she slipped away. Jack rushed out behind her, cupping his hand to his mouth.

"Where are you going?!" He shouted. The water lapped dangerously around the toes of his boots, he could feel a storm brewing, see it rumbling menacingly across the horizon. As if it intended to swallow him up for his sins. There was a loud splash, and he turned his attention back to the shallows. There she swam, curving her back and grabbing the tip of her tail, swimming in a little ring. A wide smile on her face, her skin had instantly brightened. He wondered just how long she could survive out of the water. He felt his knees pop as he kneeled down, tracing his two fingers in the water. She noticed him and swam a little closer, laying on her belly, her dark blue tail curving prettily behind her. 

"Today, I uh..." He started, feeling awfully shy. Look at me, he thought to himself. An old man getting shy around a pretty girl. Now that she looked healthier, and happier, his heart thumped just a little louder than usual.

"Today I'll figure out how to get to Scotland." He raised his stormy eyes, her head cocked to the side and a small frown on her lips. He let out a deep sigh. There were moments where it seemed she understood, and other times it was as if he were speaking in tongues, he had no clue about what she understood. Did she know English? Could she speak it? Perhaps he should stop by the library and pick up something that could help.

"Home." He grumbled loudly. He watched as her eyes lit up, and her sweet lips curled into a wide smile. She nodded enthusiastically, her wet hair smacking and sticking to her face and shoulders. So she understood that, at least. He pushed himself to stand and marched to his home, pushing the open door and surveying his little bachelor pad. It was a complete mess, with books and papers and clothing scattered everywhere.

"Damn, I need to clean." He bypassed the mess and stood at his counter, taking his thick black coat and slipping his arms in, pulling it over his shoulders. He patted the pocket, feeling his wallet in there. He'd have to go into town. The idea wasn't so bad, he thought, but the people would surely stare if he went anywhere but the bar. He'd have to go to the travel agency, figure out how to get to Scotland, to the library for some mermaid books. There was a soft splash and the sound of water dripping onto wood, and his eyes trailed over to his doorway. She stood there, her hair completely wet, water trickling down her fingertips onto the floor. 

"Don't get the floor wet!" He cried out in shock, rushing to the restroom and grabbing his only towel. He pushed it to his nose, giving it a quick whiff. Good, it doesn't stink. He went over to her and thrust the towel into her arms.

"Come on, dry yourself off." The girl stared blankly at the towel, eyes curving over the softness. Jack let out another groan, she was hopeless. He took the towel and dropped it over her head, rubbing his hands over the side of her head, brushing and pulling her wet hair. She let out a little giggle, and her two hands reached up and touched his wrists.

"Sorry, does it feel weird?" Jack pulled the towel off, viewing her rustled hair. Her bright eyes glittered, and his heart jumped a beat. Was he having a heart attack? He looked to the two hands on his wrist and gingerly took the towel in his hand, slowly and softly wiping down her arms. This is too sensual he thought to himself as he stepped closer, wiping the towel over her shoulders. With one hand he held her dark wet hair, pulling off to the side so he could wipe down her back. That's when he noticed the blue scales that speckled down her back like freckles, clustered in tiny groups all along her spine. As his towel passed over them, he guessed her skin was sufficiently dry, and the blue scales disappeared to God knows where. He watched, enraptured as his gently strokes made her scales shiver. Her arms gripped tightly around his back, her nails clawing into his back. This was WAY too sensual! He harshly pulled away, ripping her arms away from his back.

"Like that." He stated, handing her the towel once more. Her fingers traced over the slight dampness before taking it, holding it before her.

"Wipe your legs, I...." He shuffled towards the door, clutching it tightly. "I can't do that." He gently closed the door behind him, shoving his hands into his pockets and making his way to town.

 

"Oh, Mr. Morrison!" The older lady cooed in surprise, who he recognized was Ana Amari, a friend of Jesse's. Jack had made his way through town, slowed down significantly by the stares and hushed whispers of the towns folk. He was too early one said, the bar isn't open yet. They all watched on as if he had grown a second head and was holding a rough political debate with it. He entered the travel agency, all of the customers and employees stopping in their tracks, freezing mid sentence. There was one employee, Ana, who ushered him over to her empty desk. He fell into the seat, ignoring the judging looks he received.

"Why Mr. Morrison, what brings you here on this fine day?" She chimed happily, folding her fingers over the desk. Jack looked out the wide window, at the strong winds and cold rain. Fine day indeed. Jack cleared his throat and leaned in, determined to not let anyone else hear him.

"I need to go away." He whispered, looking her right in the brown eyes. Her thin mouth hung open and she leaned forward even closer.

"Did you kill someone?" She whispered back in grim curiosity. Jack reeled back in shock, letting out a no much louder than he had anticipated. All eyes were on him once again, and he leaned down.

"What?! No, I just..." he looked down at his weary hands, scarred and calloused and worn. "I need a vacation." Ana let out a hearty laugh, slapping at the desk in delight.

"And your little tug boat can't get you there?" She laughed. Jack let out a deep sigh, it was nice that she was treating him regularly, but it was still a bit too... much.

"I need to get to Scotland." Ana stopped laughing, but her smile seemed to widen even more. Her dark brown eyes glittered softly in the light, urging him to explain. Of course, these fisherman's wives always loved to gossip. He would just have to give her the basics, the bare minimum. He would do his best to make it the most mild bit of gossip any woman could ever hear. Nothing to get in a tizzy about.

"There's this girl..."

"Say no more!" She cried out happily, clapping her hands together.

"You want to take your young lover on a retreat to the Cliffs of Dover!" She cheered. Jack grumbled.

"That's in England."

"I've got the perfect little trip for you and your..." she let out a vicious giggle, "Little lover." Jack smacked his forehead as the woman rustled through one of her drawers, pulling out two tickets.

"All I'll need is the two passports and the payment, of course." She placed the two tickets onto the desk before him and his blood froze. Of course she would need a passport, she was supposed to be a regular human! Jack leaned in again, rubbing the redness of his forehead.

"She, uh..." He whispered, looking into Ana's dark brown eyes. He felt a little bad about straight out lying, but he was a fisherman. They lied and cursed, just like any other man. Hopefully he would be forgiven.

"She lost her, uh... passport when she was on the boat..." His eyes shifted warily, watching to see if anyone could overhear them. Ana placed a hand over her open mouth, letting out a soft gasp. He looked up in her eyes, imitating a lost dog. Perhaps it would work, she seemed susceptible to puppy-dog eyes. She lowered her hand and placed her fingers on the top of his hand, giving him a genuine little smile.

"I got it." She took one of the envelopes and pulled out the boat ticket, slipping it into the other envelope quite slyly for a woman her age. Perhaps she had done it before.

"Then all I need is your passport and 200$, Mr. Morrison, and your trip aboard the "Lady of Clear Waters" will be all set!" She cooed cheerfully.

"200 dollars?!" Jack cried out in shock. The whole store turned to glare at him once more, but he no longer cared. 200 dollars? What, was the ship made of solid gold?!

"Mr. Morrison," She reasoned, pulling out a pamphlet of this "Lady of Clear Waters". "This is one of the most luxurious trips you'll ever take!" He ripped the pamphlet from her hands, tearing it open. It was one of those triple decker ships, big enough to put the Titanic to shame. It had luxury rooms, luxury dining, even swimming pools! Jack had never been a man of luxury, he didn't even have a suit. And the men and women all looked divine, with their silk ties and satin dresses and jewelry that cost more than Jack's entire life's wage. Ana sighed dreamily, looking at the young lady on the pamphlet.

"When my husband and I were newly married, he bought me all sorts of pretty new clothes before we went on the "Lady of Clear Waters." Her eyes rolled back as she slipped into dream land, one hand gently caressing her white braid that hung over her shoulder. New clothes? Right. He'd have to get her clothes too. He doubted they would let a naked woman on the ship, no matter how pretty. So that was another, even more awkward thing to do to prepare. A low grumble erupted from his throat as he tossed the pamphlet back onto the desk, taking the envelope and shoving it into his jacket pocket.

"I'll be back." He warned, standing quickly and shuffling out of there faster than a rabbit. 200 dollars, new clothing, a suit. That was going to be at least 250, of which he didn't have. There was another trip he'd have to make to the bank. He rubbed angrily at his temples, this mermaid was becoming more hassle than she was worth. Thinking back to the fairytales, they never mentioned anything about cost. As he made his way to the bank, he began to regret his decision in helping her. He should have tossed her back into the sea, and gone back to his regular life. His regular, boring old life of repetition. And soul crushing loneliness. Nothing he wasn't used to.

 

As he left the banks 250 dollars in pocket, he let out a deep sigh.


	4. Lady Luck

Jack's first stop was the library. It was easy enough to find books about mermaids, but it was ten times more difficult to find ones that were even the slightest bit scientific. Most were fairy tales from Hans Christian Anderson, and he had managed to find a few scientific reviews of mermaids, but, of course, there was no "How to Care for a Mermaid" manuals, so he satisfied himself with his selection. Luckily the rain had stopped, so he carried his large paper bag of books further into town. Next was the suit makers. The pamphlet had said that the "Lady of Clear Waters" was going to dock in well over a week, plenty of time to have his suit made. The tailor's shop was very unique, belonging to two Japanese brothers. "Shimada's Suits" was well known, but the brothers were even more famous. The eldest and owner of the establishment, Hanzo Shimada, was a strict, down to earth man who took a deep pride in his work, making sure every stitch was perfect. His little brother Genji, however, was far more interested in flirting with any living woman he set his eyes on. Jack couldn't help but admire the two, having flawless English and earning a name for themselves, they were very lucky, especially in this small gossipy fish town. Jack had even heard that rich men from out of town came to their shop. And as he entered the shop, the jingling of the bell sounding just above him, he understood why. One felt like wealth itself when they stepped in, surrounded by fine suits, luxurious materials, even sparkling new leather shoes.

"Welcome, sir." He heard a calm voice sound from the back, and Hanzo himself emerged, dressed in a crisp white button down shirt with a satin purple vest, decorated with silver buttons. His long black hair was tied in a handsome bun, and his face clean shaven. His dark eyes stared right into Jack's soul, and at once he felt very self conscious. 

"Have you come for a suit?" Hanzo ventured, stepping closer to Jack, his hands folded before him. Jack let out a rough nod, looking down at his old, scuffed fisherman boots. Hanzo's shiny leather shoes came into view, and Jack looked up.

"Is there any type of material or suit shape you are looking for, Mr...?" Hanzo leaned in, a strand of inky black hair falling down his shoulder. Jack wondered for a moment what the mermaid saw in him. Would she be much happier being helped by a handsome foreigner like Hanzo? Jack shook his head, shoving his hands into his pockets.

"Morrison. Jack Morrison." He replied. Hanzo nodded sagely. "I don't know anything about suits." Jack revealed, shrugging lightly and turning his head to one of the suits on display. It was gray, with a white shirt and a fancy dark blue tie. Maybe he would look good in gray he thought idly. Maybe it would age him considerably.

"Then allow me to help you." Hanzo offered, turning on his heels and heading towards the back. He spoke in Japanese to someone in the back, who came rushing out shortly after. Genji's black hair was cut fashionably short, as was the American fashion. His white shirt was unbuttoned and disheveled, and he wore a strange bracelet, one with a small ball of cloth where countless pins stuck out.

"This gentleman is looking for a suit." Hanzo explained. Genji nodded enthusiastically and rushed into the back room once more, and Jack followed suit. The backroom was quite empty, save for a single chair and a pedestal where Jack assumed he would stand. Genji led him over, reaching for several swaths of cloth, and the suit designing began. 

Genji's whole face contorted in concentration as he compared suit materials, black and gray and brown. Without looking at Jack, he mumbled,

"What is the suit for?" Jack stared down at the young man. His eyes were as sharp and dark as his brothers, but held an innate kindness in them, His sleeves had been pushed over his elbows, revealing a green swirling tattoo that ran down his right arm. Genji was quite muscular, beneath his nice clothing, and Jack thought back to the mermaid once more. Genji would suit her even better, with his kindness and youthful energy. She wouldn't be ashamed to stand beside him, dressed in an expensive suit.

"It's for a fancy trip." Jack grumbled, looking at himself in one of the tall mirrors. She had chosen him for a reason, what reason he had no clue, but he was determined to see it out to the end. He had already come this far, he might as well. Genji smirked, lowering the swaths of cloth and peering into Jack's eyes.

"With a lady?" Genji ventured mischievously. Jack felt his whole face burst red hot, and Genji let out a little snicker, tossing the swaths of cloth to the floor.

"I know exactly the suit."

 

Jack Morrison, for once, felt quite handsome. Genji had taken a simple black suit sham and placed it over Jack, using pins to tuck in the material. With a crisp white shirt and a black tie, Jack looked a few years younger, his wrinkles smoothed, his hair seemed less gray and his eyes softened. The material gave his body a shape, unlike his big sweaters that swallowed his torso, and the dark black of it looked quite smart.

"It's simple, but it gets the ladies every time." Genji snickered, peering over Jack's shoulder into the mirror. Jack understood why Genji was the youthful heart throb of the town, he was boyishly charming and very well dressed. He knew the women well, it seemed. Jack nodded, deciding then and there. This suit would fit him just fine.

 

 

It would take just a few days for his suit to be made, Genji was determined to get it done as fast as he could, and Hanzo was determined to make him get it done as perfectly as possible, and Jack knew his suit was in good hands. He had roughly 20 dollars left for the mermaid. Jack raised his eyes to meet the soft pink sign of "Lady Luck", the only ladies clothing store in the entire town. They sold everything that could be needed, from stockings to jackets to... underthings. Jack felt as if he were on fire as he entered, the dainty bell jingling above him.

"Welcome to... oh!" One of the bouncy young things skipped over to greet him, shocked at his appearance. He ventured a guess that men didn't frequent the store. The other girls that gathered in the corner stifled their giggles as the young thing before him gave him a confused, almost pitiful look.

"Sir, the suit store's just down the way." She spoke, her voice heavy with a British accent. Jack knew this would be harder than it should have been.

"Yes, I was hoping for some... assistance." The gaggle of girls giggled again, and Jack fought the urge to flee. No, he had to get the mermaid some clothes. And fancy ones, too. The young girl gave him a wary smile, folding her hands before her.

"How can I help?" She offered kindly, her blue eyes sparkling beneath brown hair. Her name tag read Lena. Jack let out a shaky breath and looked about, his eyes hurting from the amount of pink and soft pastels. He had never seen so many girly things in his entire life, and he had sisters. What was the story he had told the Travel Agency woman? His companion had lost her passport in the boat ride over... Jack leaned down, looking into Lena's eyes.

"My... companion... was on a ship and her, uh..." His brain conjured up an imaginative story that surprised even him. "Her suitcase fell overboard during the night." Lena gasped in shock, her two hands shooting up to cover her lips.

"Oh dear!" She cried out. The gaggle of girls drew closer, eager to hear the story.

"She would have come in to get some new things for herself, but, uh..." He looked around, seeing a table of nightgowns. "She only has a nightgown, you see." By now, all of the young ladies of the store had gathered around him, their brows furled and hands covering their gasping mouths.

"The poor thing!" Lena cried, placing a hand on her cheek. The other girls confided to each other, agreeing on his companions 'misfortune'. Jack was surprised at the compassion of young women when it came to another of their kind. Jack stood back up, rubbing a hand against his scruffy chin.

"And we're destined for a nice trip on the Lady of Clear Waters." The girls looked to each other in excitement, and Jack gave them a smile. "You can see her predicament." At once the gaggle of girls scattered, all to the outer most reaches of the store. They shuffled through countless drawers, withdrawing all sorts of silky smooth items. They piled the bras, the panties, the fancy dresses and shoes all together on the counter. They also added a few colorful ribbons to match the dresses, and they all fluttered about, determining the final items. Jack waltzed around them, eager to keep out of their way as he made his way to one of the small tables. There lay a single nightgown, relatively simple compared to everything else in the store. It was a white dress, down to the ankles with thin straps. It was made of a simple cloth, not silk or satin, but it was still soft to the touch. He went to the ever growing pile and placed it on top, knowing of the looks he received from the cashier. He turned and gave her another sad smile.

"Her current nightgown is quite torn." He replied. The girl gasped sadly and tallied up the total. It was well over 20, and he looked regretfully at his wallet. Lena bounced over to the cashier, placing a hand on the cashier's shoulder.

"Give him a discount, she needs these things!" She assured, and the cashier nodded and continued, taking plenty enough off. His total was 18.85, and he payed happily. The girls took to folding and wrapping the dresses in colorful papers, placing them in a pink paper bag. He was sure to get stares walking down the street, but at last he was done, and he could return home. He thanked the young girls and assured that his companion would be very pleased, and finally made his way back home, with his books and his countless womanly items. He just hoped that the mermaid would wear them.


	5. Pearl

The walk home helped calm Jack's heart. The entire walk home he heard poorly hushed whispers of his "lover" he had hidden away in his little beach side cabin. They had guessed that she was old, or that she was young, she was unspeakably beautiful or as ugly as a horse, all apparently good reasons for her to never have shown herself in town. It was shocking how fast these rumors spread, he had only been in town for one morning and he had already shaken the town to the core, and now he was feeling the ripple effect. But seeing his empty beach, his quaint little house with it's faded red door, it calmed his heart and settled his mind. He didn't mind helping out his little mermaid, so long as he could return to his happy home. He popped his door open and stepped inside, reveling in the warmth and familiar smell of the ocean breeze and whiskey. His tired eyes fell on her, the mermaid. She stood by the kitchen, staring out the window. The moment his bags fell to the floor she spun around, her hair flying about her shoulders as their eyes met. Her mouth smiled wide and she rushed over to greet him, moving out of the way of the counter. There was a loud bang, and all at once the color drained from her face as she crumpled to the ground. She folded in on herself, clutching desperately at her foot. 

"Oh shit!" Jack cried out in shock, leaping over his couch to her side. He placed his hand on her shoulder, pulling her over so he could see what had happened. Her big toe throbbed an angry red, and Jack couldn't contain the laugh that leapt from his throat. She shot her eyes up to him, filled with tears, and he let out even louder, hearty laughs.

"You just stubbed your toe!" He chuckled, clutching his sweater and rolling back, sitting on his butt and leaning on his left arm. "I thought you were dying or something!" He struggled to stand, his belly sore from laughing so hard. She grabbed tightly to his wrist, having him pull her up onto her feet. Her toe ached, and each sad little look she gave her foot Jack couldn't help but chuckle.

"It's fine." he calmed her, placing both of his hands on her shoulders. She looked up into his eyes, her tears subsiding and her lip quivering so slightly. "You're fine." Jack went over to the door and picked up his bags, bringing them to the table. He reached in to the pink one, withdrawing one of the wrapped packages. He looked into her eyes, giving her a wink.

"I got you a gift." This had her interest peaked, and she gently tip-toed over, peering into the bag. He unfolded the tissue paper and withdrew the white nightgown, his favorite piece, and held it out for her to see. Her thin fingers reached out, gently touching the material. It was soft and cool, and she stepped forward, tracing the lines of the top, the thin straps, the seams that ran down the side. It was simple, but pretty. Jack noticed he was smiling, his eyes creased and his heart fluttering. So this is what it was like, he thought to himself, to be a man with a pretty young lover. He wanted to dote on her just to see the glitter of her eyes, the small smile on her lips. But she wasn't a doll to dress up how he wanted.

"Do you know how to dress yourself?" He ventured, stepping closer, closing the distance between them. She shook her head, peering up into his eyes. He jokingly rolled his eyes and took hold of the hem of the dress, turning it upside down and successfully opening it wide enough to slip it over her head.

"Hands up, Princess." She blinked slowly for a moment, registering the command before her hands shot straight up. He pulled the material over her, tugging it down over her breasts, and sure enough it fit her perfectly. It covered up everything that needed to be, but it still left some to the imagination. Her chest was exposed, her breasts subtly covered by the white, and it almost looked like a wedding gown. He left her to twirl about a bit, taking a seat in his big comfortable chair. He pulled the blanket over his knees, melting into the softness of his chair, watching her twirl and spin like a princess. Now that he thought about it, he hadn't even introduced himself.

"Hey." He called out, gaining her attention. She at once dropped the edges of her gown and padded over, a brow raised in curiosity. "Sit down." He offered, holding a hand out towards the couch that sat beside him. She looked from the couch to the blue blanket in his lap, and giving him a soft smile, she climbed over his legs and sat down on his thigh, letting her legs fall between his open ones and her hands fall into her lap. His whole body erupted into heat at the contact, the feeling of her weight so close to him, resting on his thigh. He swallowed harshly and placed a hand on his chest, just above his heart. His other hand rested comfortably on her thigh, which he told himself it was only for keeping her balanced on his knees. 

"My name is Jack." He spoke slowly, emphasizing his words with his hand. She looked into his eyes again, her back straight. She blinked idly. "Jack." He spoke again, pushing his fingers into his sweater. He let out a little grumble.

"Jack." He pushed his fingers on his chest again, his fingers digging into his blue turtle-neck, scratching his skin. She lifted her hand, letting it hover idly above him, and he took his chance and gently grabbed it, pushing her fingers onto his chest just as he had been doing. The tips of her nails scratched at his skin, and he let out a soft breath, his shoulders slouching as he exhaled. 

"Jack." He pushed her fingers even further, the tips softly scraping. "Say it." He encouraged, looking at her lips. Were lips normally as... kissable, as hers were? He couldn't recall a single girl he had such a keen desire to kiss, even in the years of his prime. In his youth, he was the guy that girls would arm-wrestle each other for. He was blond, toned, muscular and a very very talented dancer. He had danced with hundreds of women, but not a single one had incited such an urge in him. Perhaps his years of loneliness were catching up to him, having him cycle through the classic emotions of first love. There was the lust, oh most definitely there was lust. He almost felt 20 again, feeling her beneath his fingers. And seeing her at home, happy to see him like a loving wife had his heart fluttering in his chest like a bird. She let out a soft giggle, pressing her fingers into his chest of her own accord.

"Jack." she whispered, tasting his name. He shivered beneath her, his fingers fisting her dress, unconsciously pulling her closer. Good, there's step one. He raised his free hand from hers and pressed a single finger to her chest, right over her heart, giving the same motion as before. He looked into her eyes expectantly, admiring the glitter of her eyes. She smiled softly, pursing her lips.

"Jack." She cooed. He let out a little chuckle and resettled himself beneath her, shifting her weight closer to his hip to keep her from pressing down on his knee. 

"No, no. I'm Jack." He pressed his fingers to his chest again, before pressing them against hers. She only smiled, looking innocently into his eyes. Ok, maybe she didn't get the point. Perhaps she... doesn't have a name? He sighed deeply, holding his chin in his hand. He looked over her once more, noting each detail of her face and her body. Damn, he thought to himself, white really was a good color on her. His mind floated back to the shockingly vibrant sapphire blue of her tail, perhaps that would be a good name? He pressed his fingers to her chest, giving her a small, curious smile.

"Sapphire?" He mumbled. At once she scrunched her nose, reeling back away from him, nearly leaping from his lap. He pulled her knee closer to him, letting out a soft laugh as she resettled. That name was too obvious, he concluded. Too predictable. He rather liked the name, but even he knew his naming prowess was severely lacking. He was the kind of guy to name a Dalmatian "Spot." What did he have to name, anyhow?

"Ok, not that." He watched her hand, small and soft, take a hold of his, folding her fingers into the spaces of his own. They fit perfectly he noted. Her fingers were cold, and unbelievably smooth. Almost like... a pearl. He looked up into her eyes, leaning closer to catch her gaze, and she shifted to meet his wandering eyes.

"Pearl?" To this she seemed mildly satisfied, wrapping her arms lazily around him, leaning in and resting her head against his shoulder, digging her nose deep into his sweater, enveloped in his scent. He smelt earthy and warm, with a hint of spice that was naturally him. It was intoxicating, to say the least. And the feel of his calloused fingers, of his scruffy chin and shy touches was delicious, and she was hungry. As if on cue, her belly grumbled loudly enough to shake the two from their dreams. Jack let out a soft laugh, rubbing his thumb over her thigh.

"Hungry, huh?" As he stood she slowly slipped off, planting her feet onto the floor as he stepped around her, making his way to the kitchen. There he stood before the record player and kneeled down, surfing through his several records before picking one, slipping it from it's paper sleeve and placing it gingerly on the record player. He lifted the needle and carefully nudged it over the grooves, let the needle fall and the music soon began. Pearl's whole face widened in stupefied curiosity as she flew over towards him, eyes planted squarely on the device. He got to work cooking, firing up the stove and preparing, he must confess, much more food than he had ever cooked for two people. He almost burnt the fish, too busy watching Pearl eagerly watching the record spin round and round, stupefied and confused between watching the strange machine and hearing the sound of music coming from it. She reached her finger forward a few times, wishing desperately to touch it, but before he even had to warn her, she pulled back, as if it would bite her. The song soon ended, as did his cooking, and he proudly placed their lunch on the table, quite pleased. He pulled the dining room chair back to the table, taking a seat on the uncomfortable wood, shooting his eyes towards Pearl once more.

"Come on Princess, it's time to eat." He called. She stood, but made no indication that she was going to move. The machine was off, and she dared to gently press her finger against the button he had pressed before. Jack leaned on his hands, a wide smirk on his face.

"If you eat, I'll teach you how it works." The moment the words left his mouth she leapt over to the table, taking her seat and promptly digging in, using surprising grace in picking apart the cooked fish. He had planned that she couldn't use silverware. Looks like he had a lot of things to teach her, and luckily, over a week to do it. As Jack thought back, he hadn't realized just how lonely he was. And now that Pearl was here, he had smiled more than he had in an entire year. There really was something quite magical about his little mermaid.


	6. La Mer

Jack sat in the center of his living room, his couch and big comfortable chair pushed farther towards the wall to accommodate all of his records. Each record he had ever received had been placed around him, with Pearl gingerly stepping over, slowly and gently placing a record down, and leaping back to gather more. As he scanned over the labels, he realized he hadn't really listened to most of them. When he had lived with his two sisters and his mother, his mother and sister's desires for music was insatiable. His older sister nearly fainted each time Harry Babbitt sang, his other sister quivered at the mere mention of Bing Crosby, and his mother was fondest of Ray Eberle. And over the years, they had steadily sent him all of their treasures, as birthday and Christmas gifts. As a youth he couldn't stand them, mostly because anything his sisters liked he was solely determined to hate for no other reason than his sisters enjoyed it. There was one that, due to request Pearl had set in his lap, that was his favorite. It was simple, and worn from years of playing it over and over, but it was one of his favorites. It was The White Cliffs of Dover by Ray Eberle and Glenn Miller and his orchestra. Soft and uplifting, Jack spent many a day listening to the record, his door open with a chair staring out at the sea. Seeing it in his hands, the label now peeling and countless years of playing had it worn, he recalled quite sadly the very day he received it as a gift.

His mother had taken comfort in the song, convinced her husband was merely lost at sea. Jack hadn't seen him since he was 10, and after he caught word of his father's countless infidelities, he never wanted to. It was the only thing that kept her going, the idea in her head that he would return, and Jack simply could not convince her otherwise. His mother sat in her rocking chair, her leathery hands clutching the paper sleeve in her lap. 

"John." She mumbled, calling out to him. He knelt by her chair, placing his big hand over hers, engulfing her thin fingers in warmth. Her wrinkled lips curled in a smile, and her glassy eyes fell onto him. He hadn't heard her call his real name in years, only when he was in trouble as a rambunctious youth.

"Won't you clean this record for me, dear?" She slid the paper sleeve off, handing it over. She listened to in nearly everyday, and he took great pains to keep it all clean and dust free. He met her eyes, his own full of tears, and his heart ached. 

"Of course Ma. I'll clean it so well that it'll play like brand new." He held it close to his chest as he stood, ignoring the pain in his chest as he walked down the hall to the entrance of the hospital. With a soft, feeble voice, his mother spoke.

"I wonder when your father will be home." 

That was the last time he saw his mother.

 

A gentle tap on his head broke him from his memories, and he lifted his head to meet the sparkling eyes of Pearl. All of the records had been placed, and she stood eagerly beside him, the record player itself set before him. He let out a little chuckle and flipped the machine on. Pearl sat down, pulling her knees closer to her chest as she watched on. He placed the record down slowly, making sure she was watching. He lifted the needle, led it over, and let it fall. He turned up the volume, and after just a moment, the magic began.

 

There'll be blue birds over the White Cliffs of Dover.

Tomorrow just you wait and see. 

There'll be love and laughter and peace ever after.

Tomorrow when the world is free.

 

When Jack turned his head, he saw Pearl with a dreamy little smile on her face, looking down fondly on the record.

"Is this your first time hearing a record?" Jack ventured, leaning in closer to her. When he met her eyes, she gave him a slow, almost sleepy blink. Was that... a yes? As the song continued on, her eyes fluttered closed and Jack felt a gentle blush on his cheeks. He wasn't used to sharing his treasures with anyone, let alone a pretty girl. With her simple white nightgown, her head resting on her knees and the two being surrounded by records, he felt warm and completely satisfied. He wondered if this was how married couples feel, in this domestic bliss. All that would make it complete was if he could place a kiss on her lips. But he knew even if she allowed it, he wouldn't be able to keep his hands to himself, like a ravenous wolf set loose. He cleared his throat, gaining her attention. 

"Do you like it?" She let out a low hum, the most noise she's made beside her one word. Before he could ask her more, there came a loud knocking at the door. Pearl leapt to her feet, her face pale and eyes wide in fear.

"Hey, hey, it's ok." He whispered, slowly rising to his feet, careful not to step on anything as he made his way over to the door. Pearl rushed over to the kitchen counter, kneeling down and peeking her head out, careful not to be seen. 

Gabriel stood at the door, his hands on his hips and a firm frown planted on his face. Jack wouldn't admit it, but his mood was slightly dampened at the sigh of the dour man. 

"Hey Gabe." Jack answered. Gabriel tapped his foot hurriedly, crossing his arms over his chest.

"What the hell are you doing?" Gabriel peered over Jack's shoulder, regarding the countless records scattered across the floor. Jack made a face and turned.

"I'm listening to my music." Gabriel let out a laugh and took a step back before his face fell once more. He peered over Jack shoulder again, scanning the entire room. Seeming satisfied, he let his arms fall.

"What happened to the Sirena?" He asked, his voice quite grave. Jack had completely forgotten that Gabriel was a superstitious man, no wonder he had run off the second they docked on shore. Jack let out a gruff sigh, crossing his arms and leaning against the door jam, hoping to block as much view into his home as possible. Pearl was right in hiding, he hadn't expected Gabriel to show up.

"I tossed her right back where she came from." Jack wasn't used to so much lying. He had been raised an honest boy, but now he was lying left and right from friends to complete strangers, and it left a bitter taste in his mouth. Gabriel was not convinced, cocking his hip and raising a brow.

"And I heard you've got a new girlfriend." He teased, leaning in. Gabriel gave Jack a menacing snarl, his brows furrowed tightly above his dark eyes.

"I wanna meet her." Jack gulped dryly. Gabriel was never like this, so uptight and almost... threatening. Jack turned around, eyes scanning over the countless records. Several of them were men, their faces pictures proudly on the front of the sleeves. Then there was one... aha! Jack turned around again, giving Gabriel a snarky little smirk.

"Sure." Jack made his way over to the record and lifted it up. Yes, this would do nicely. He returned to the door, holding the record up just below his head, as if it were a real woman.

"Her name's Rosemary Clooney. Ever heard of her?" Gabriel's whole face went red, the blond bombshell smiling seductively, blue eyes looking towards him. A violent laugh erupted from Gabriel's throat, nearly knocking him over in the force. He double over, clutching at his stomach as he laugh hysterically, his face burning red and his body aching.

"So you... bought clothes? For that?" Gabriel bellowed, pointing to the record. Damn, Jack was digging his own grave. He would have to admit to pretending to dressing up the damn record. He wanted to crawl beneath a rock and die. Gabriel laughed for a few minutes as Jack stood there awkwardly, wishing he could melt away into nothing. He knew Gabriel wouldn't tell anyone, but it was still quite possibly the most embarrassing thing to happen. There were moments where Gabriel spoke of Jack losing his mind, going off the deep end, etc. At least he wasn't curious about Pearl anymore, and really, that's all that mattered.

"Why are you bothering our honeymoon, Gabe?" Jack teased. He couldn't help but find the humor in it, and if he milked it a little more, perhaps Gabriel would leave. He finally wrenched himself up again, tears running down his cheeks, mouth cracked in a huge smile. He let out a soft, satisfied sigh before turning, pointing to the tug boat docked nearby.

"We left the fish in the water all night." Jack wanted to smack himself, he had completely forgotten about the fish! Granted, he was occupied with the bigger fish, but he was certain Pearl would take offense.

"You can take it all." Jack remarked, placing the record on the table beside the door and stepping outside, closing the door behind him. The day was warmer than others, but he still regretted not wearing his coat.

"They all probably escaped anyway." Gabriel joked, smirking and taking off towards the boat. Jack watched as he lifted the net again, seemingly satisfied with the amount of fish. He took one of the large wooden crates and filled it to the brim with fish, his arms heaving and muscle straining.

"Do you need any help?" Jack offered, his hands cupped around his mouth. Gabriel let out a laugh, his feet sinking in the sand.

"I don't want to bother you lovebirds." He teased. He managed to tie the crate to his motorbike and gave a patronizing little wave towards Jack.

"I bet your kids will sound great!" With a rev of the engine, Gabriel was gone. As Jack returned, gently closing the door behind him, he saw Pearl once again sitting before the record player. She had changed it, holding the original so gently in her hands, as if it were a newborn baby. The small record began to play, and at once he was greeted with Charles Trenet singing La Mer. It was a far more gentle, melodic version than the American version, his sisters doted upon it ceaselessly when he was younger. Something soft hung in the air, a high pitched accompaniment to the melody, soaring high and softly in his head. He felt as if he were swimming in sound, so heavenly and sweet. His eyes fluttered open, unaware he had closed them, and he saw Pearl's little mouth moving with the words.

 

La mer

Qu'on voit danser le long des golfes clairs.

A des reflets d'argent,

La mer.

Des reflets changeants

Sous la pluie.

 

Jack's mouth hung open as he clumsily fell to his knees, stirring Pearl from her singing. At once the heavenly feeling ended, and Jack felt quite suddenly heavy in his own body. So that was the power of a mermaid's voice.

"Y-you..." He stuttered, unsure of what to say. Too many questions swam through his head, and looking into her innocent, curious sparkling eyes did not answer any.

"You speak French?" He ventured. Pearl let out a little giggle and removed the record, setting it beside her and finding another, quite pleased she had learned how it worked so quickly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All of the songs references in this:
> 
> The White Cliffs of Dover by Ray Eberle and Glenn Miller and his orchestra:  
>  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=E36tO0TDwio
> 
> La Mer by Charles Trenet:  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fztkUuunI7g
> 
> I am very passionate about these old records, and I do know that if the story takes place some time in the forties a lot of these artists and songs wouldn't be around yet, but not only is this fan fiction, it's fantasy.


	7. Until Tomorrow

It took Jack several hours to figure out a little bit more about Pearl. She was absolutely obsessed with the record player, playing song after song. And with each song she knew, his concept of understanding was shaken. She could sing in French, German, English, it didn't matter. Apparently, she learned by hearing. She had no idea what on earth she was singing, and at some point Jack even wondered if she knew what he was saying. When she followed a command, was she understanding, or merely playing along to placate him? All at once his patience crumbled. This was going to drive him crazy! He had spent at least 250 dollars, ordered a suit for himself, created weird rumors that he knew damn well wouldn't just disappear, and embarrassed himself in front of one of his only friends all for a weird mermaid girl who didn't speak English, sang all sorts of languages and who gave him an erection and a headache at the same time. 

The sun had set, and Pearl had played every single on of his records. He settled himself at the table, cracking open the six pack of beer faster than he ever had before. At least 4 cans were all dry, tipped over and falling to the floor. He had made a mistake, taking her in. Now his head, practically on fire from all of the beer thumped painfully with each heartbeat, and he half thought he would die right there. 

"What the hell am I doing?" He mumbled to himself, his cheek smushed against his knuckles as he lay his head on his hand against the table. Pearl tip-toed over, gently placing her small hand on his shoulder. He briskly shook it off, leaning to the side of the chair, further away from her touch. He closed his eyes and missed the look of pain in her eyes as he continued to sip at his now luke-warm beer. 

"I'm going to take you on a boat." He announced, placing his hand on the table to keep himself upright in the chair. Pearl kneeled down beside him, looking up through her thick lashes, her face unusually solemn. He raised a brow in confusion, placing his beer on the table before him.

"Oh, but not any boat!" he shook his finger, looking her right in the eyes. He was going to speak his mind, if she understood him or not! 

"Just the fanciest damn boat to ever sail the... 7 seas!" His voice was growing louder, more muddled and confused. Pearl watched on, her hands in her lap.

"And I got you the frilliest things that I won't even get to see, all those... panties." His face burned, and his throat felt scratchy. He downed the beer, letting it fall to the floor beside him.

"And then what? I just drop you off in Scotland and fuck off home?!" His whole body shook with rage, his fists clenched tightly. He hadn't thought of the end plan. Would he be fine spending so much time alone with her just to send her on home again? And could he return to this house, to fall into his regular routine? 

"What do I get from this?" He pointed a shaky finger at himself, his face red and full of anger. Pearl stood to her feet, slow and elegant like water, a trained princess. She took the shell and pearl necklace from her neck, holding it an arms length towards him. His blood boiled in his veins, his whole body was about to burst!

"I don't need your... your fucking necklace, Princess." He cried out, smacking his hand against his forehead, rubbing his tired eyes. His brain was too muddled and drowning in booze to think straight. What did he want? He wanted a mansion, he wanted to fix up his little shack, he wanted friends, he wanted no one, he wanted a wife and children, he wanted sleep and booze and quiet fishing trips. He was a walking paradox, taking out his petty anger on anything that could listen, wether it had the option to listen or not. All the rage melted from him, seeping through his toes. 

"Jack." The defiant, strong look in her eyes shook him. What do you want, she asked him. It was so obvious, in her body language, in her eyes. Her sparkling, clear eyes. She turned from him, heading towards the door. Her fingers gripped the handle and pulled it open, letting in the cold night air, the wind brushing her hair about her like wings open and ready to take flight. And he knew if he let her out that door she would be gone forever, swimming off into the darkness of night, never to look back. The look in her eyes, the strength in her frame had him weak. All of the stress of his lonely life was coming down, this wasn't a stressful quest, it was new. And the uncertainty of it frightened him. 

Jack Morrison, a strong sailor, a fisherman and a soldier was frightened. Frightened by his emotions, the mermaid in her, the woman in her, the loneliness in himself. He had never confronted it before. He was fine, except he wasn't. He hurt so deeply for so long that he had grown accustomed to the pain.

"Don't..." He whispered. He was lucky his chair caught him as he fell back, collapsing into the dining room chair. His eyes were sore, and his nose tingled sharply as he pushed his face into his open hand, digging into the flesh.

"Please..."

And there was silence.

 

He didn't know how long he had sat there in silence. She was gone, she had to be. The room was cold, he was cold. There was a click, and at once a familiar, comforting melody began to play.

 

There'll be blue birds over the White Cliffs of Dover.

Tomorrow just you wait and see. 

There'll be love and laughter and peace ever after.

Tomorrow when the world is free.

 

Jack let out a weary chuckle, cracking open his tired eyes. Pearl stood just beside him, a few empty cans in her arms, placing them in order on the end of the dining table. When he met her eyes, she gave him quite possibly the warmest smile he had ever seen. And it was for him. He ran his hand through his hair as he sorted out his thoughts.

"You're a miracle, Princess." He chuckled. She made her way over to the door, careful to close it properly. Good thing he had lit the fire, else he would be shivering in his boots. He cracked his eyes open to see Pearl just beside him, kneeling down by his feet. Her steps were so light, he hadn't even heard her move. Her little fingers reached towards his boots, and she tugged gently on the strings, the tense ties of his boots coming undone. She shucked his shoes from his feet, placing them just behind her where he kept his other shoes, just beside the door and stood once more. Her fingers traced just over his thighs, so featherlight, he might not have felt them if he were sober. As she leaned in, settling herself on his lap once again, he didn't care if his face burned, it was either a blush or the booze. Though, most likely, it was both. She rested her head against his shoulder, leaning into his earthy, invigorating scent and brushed her hand against his, lifting the edges of his sweater sleeves just enough to reveal part of his tattoo. A small smile flickered on her lips, her nails tracing over the design. Jack looked down, following her arm and fingers with his eyes. It was difficult to see, the only light the small fire off in the corner. Jack bounced his knee to bring her even closer to him and met her twinkling eyes with a charming smile.

"Do you want to see my tattoos, Princess?" At once she leapt from his lap, pulling him from his seat by his wrist, leading him over to the fire.

"Alright, alright, I'm coming." He laughed, holding the hem of his sweater. He swept it over his shoulders easily, tossing it to the floor beside him. He hadn't really looked at himself for many years, and Pearl's eyes were very critical. She peered over each tattoo, each muscle and line and scar, each freckle and hair, as if he were a masterpiece. He was in magnificent shape for his early forties. His chest was still quite chiseled, his belly toned and leg muscles tight. Her fingers ghosted over his chest, and he couldn't help but smile. He lifted his wrist, letting the light cast itself over his arm. Wrapped around his wrist was a rope, like one from his ship. She gingerly placed her fingers around it, not entirely grabbing his wrist, holding it like a little bird, just enough for him to feel her there.

"The rope means I was a deckhand." He noted, leaning in with a smile. She giggled softly and leaned in, admiring the work. The tattoo artist had done a good job. Jack was drunk when he got it, the crew docked in God know's where. Her eyes trailed up his toned arm to his forearm.

"The anchor proves I went across the Atlantic." He mused, quite pleased. He was damn proud of his tattoos, they all meant something important to him. Pearl rose a brow, cocking her head to the side. Jack slowly lifted his free hand, placing it in her long locks, holding the back of her head just above the neck. He resisted the urge to pull her close for a kiss.

"It's an ocean." She smiled and moved her attention to his chest, her eyes landing just above his pecks, beneath his collar bones. Two swallows, facing each other with their wings outstretched. 

"I have crossed over 10,000 nautical miles." He beamed, puffing his chest out with pride. The look she gave him was obvious, she didn't understand a word he was saying, but she gave his chest a gentle little pat, like one given to a child to make him feel special. And Jack would take it. She turned her head away, eyes falling to his other forearm. Turning meant her head turned a little as well, and his hand, frozen still, remained open and she placed her soft cheek in his palm. Her cheeks were hot. Or maybe his body was on fire because of the booze, he couldn't tell. Two cannons, crossed together lay upon his forearm, and she traced the black lines with her fingernail, pulling a shiver from him. She was so gentle, it had his head spinning in circles.

"The cannons, uh..." He looked down again. The cannons meant he had served in the war. He hadn't thought about that in a while. Pearl made a little face, just a step away from disgust and her hands fell from his arm, placing themselves over her ears. He covered her little hands with his own, pressing them through her hair.

"Have you heard cannons before?" He ventured, leaning back to take in her face in the firelight. Her lower lip stuck out in a pout, her brows furrowed and eyes closed. She gave a curt nod, leaning into his hands. Perhaps he should skip that one.

"Wanna see one that really hurt?" He asked excitedly, pulling his hands from her hair. He lifted his leg and whipped off his sock, trying to show her the flat of his foot. His other foot slid on the hardwood floor, sending him falling backwards, luckily into the plush couch. He bashed his head against the stiff back and moaned, his hand quickly flying up to rub the pain away. Damn, he forgot he was drunk. Pearl flew over, sitting on her knees on the ground, her two hands out to comfort him.

"I'm ok, I'm good. I'm fine." He chuckled, lifting up his foot. On the soles of both of his feet he had a cross. Being on the soft part of his feet, he could barely get it done. The other sailors got a chicken and a pig to keep them afloat, but Jack had opted for something a little less... stupid. Pearl raised an eyebrow as she grabbed his foot, pressing her thumbs against the crosses, her face scrunched in confusion.

"It's supposed to keep hungry sharks away." Jack leaned forward and she let his foot drop. "Think it works?" Pearl gave him a little smirk and shook her head, casting her long hair across her shoulders. He let out another little chuckle and leaned forward, planting his two feet on the floor. He rested his elbows on his knees, cradling his face in his hands. A sigh escaped him, and his shoulders slumped and Pearl stood to her feet once more. Her eyes fell onto his back, scarred and maimed, except for one nearly untouched part, just below the nape of his neck, between his shoulder blades. A final tattoo, one of a star. She pressed her finger to it, cocking her head and Jack let out a tired puff.

"To always guide me home..." He mumbled, muffled by his hands. There was a moment of silence before the ticklish strands of her hair fell across his back. He moved his head to the side, ready to question her before he felt her two lips, softer than he had even imagined, place a kiss upon the star on his back. His whole body shook beneath her kiss, making it easy for her to push his shoulders back, their eyes meeting. She sat on his lap yet again, practically melting into his arms.

"Dachaigh?" She asked softly, tracing her fingers across his cheek. He gulped dryly. His fingers tensed, longing to touch and grab, and one hand latched onto her thigh, pulling up the white dress to feel flesh. It was too hot, burning beneath his fingers. His other hand held her back, keeping her in his lap, so close. So close. He smelt her skin, it smelt of the sea, of fresh air and cold rain. He was cold and hot all at once, and he could barely keep his eyes open.

"Y-yeah..." He choked.

"Jack?" She called out. A weak moan leapt from his throat as she held his cheeks, pulling him up to meet her eyes. She peered down into his, and the sweet plush kiss met his chapped lips had him trembling like a child. Fireworks exploded in his head, and his two hands grasped so tightly to her, afraid to let her go. Afraid she would turn into mist, leaving him cold and lonely once more. The kiss lasted too long, too short. It was sweet, God it was so sweet. He wanted more of her ambrosia kisses. She finally pulled away, her long hair trickling down their shoulders like water.

"Tapadh leibh." 

He closed his eyes, lulled into her arms, and he slept. He dreamt of the sea, of his little mermaid, her sapphire tail and brilliant shining eyes. She called to him in his dream, and he obeyed. He was truly under a spell, and he prayed it would never be broken.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pronunciation corner!
> 
> Tapadh leibh:
> 
> Tapa (like topographical) lay-f
> 
> Tapa lay-f


	8. Pity Party

Jack awoke to the sound of the soft sound of paper, and the sound of soft feet padding across the hardwood floor. The couch beside him sank, and he forced his exhausted, sore and dry eyes open. His vision was blurry, his head pounding. Pearl sat beside him, several books piled beside her, books he recognized. Jack hardly noticed the blanket fall from his lap as he pushed himself up, barely able to support his own weight. The whole room was spinning, his head cracking from the inside and he had to close his eyes. Even the sound of pages turning irked him, but there was nothing he could do.

"What're you reading, Princess?" He whispered, his throat hoarse. Even the sound of his own voice made him want to claw his ears out. Pearl gave him a soft smile before placing the open book onto his lap. There was a picture, spread over two pages, and Jack let out a long, tired sigh. A beautiful woman, wrapped in seal skins, emerging from the sea. Her black hair cascaded down her back, her dark eyes piercing, pale lips pulled taut. Just beside her, hiding behind stones, sat a fisherman. Jack felt his heart leap into his throat. He was old, his face tanned and wrinkled from years of life on the sea, his mouth pulled back to reveal rotting teeth, his tongue lolled out and drool leaking to the sand below, all at the sight of the woman. Jack couldn't suppress a shiver. Sure, he didn't have leathery skin or rotting teeth, but... He turned to stare at Pearl, who had picked up another book and flipped to the pages with pictures, a smile bright on her face. Couldn't he be the same? Lusting over this creature, taking advantage of the situation? Jack half wondered if he would throw up, his stomach churned so strongly. A small giggle erupted from Pearl as she hopped over, placing her book over his, showing him the picture. A mermaid lay trapped in a net, fish all about her, and one sailor stood above her, an arm outstretched, face full of worry and compassion.

"Jack." She commented happily. This sailor was young, a blond chiseled man with arms the size of baguettes. Surely not strong enough to even lift the mermaid, but Jack's suspicions were affirmed. The conventional hero type: young, handsome and full of fire, eager to help no matter the situation. He felt his shoulders sag, his hands hovering just over hers. They had kissed, hadn't they? She had kissed him, he shouldn't feel this awful trying to hold her hand. They had done worse. No, he thought to himself, he had done worse. After a moment of inner turmoil, he let his hands fall down, away from Pearl. He missed the disappointed glint in her eyes and her sad smile. She continued, looking at the pictures feeling just a little heavier than before.

 

Jack was drowning in useless knowledge. If the books on mermaids he had gotten from the library weren't fairytales, they were the most basic, no-brainer observations on the planet. Oh, mermaids have a spine? No one could have guessed. There was a single chapter on how someone imagined the reproductive organs, and for whatever reason it disturbed Jack deeply. Perhaps it was because of the downright scientific depiction of the mermaid that had him imagining his little mermaid, laying on cold metal slabs and disturbed scientists poking, prodding and cutting into her. He gave an involuntary shudder, slamming the book shut and letting it fall to the floor before him. He rested his head on his hand, leaning back into the couch once more. His headache had only tripled, his eyes now sore from reading for so long. Even Pearl had left to do literally anything else, walking out onto the beach. Jack hadn't made any food for the two of them since the morning of the day before, but he couldn't even think about food, his stomach still doing flips. A wave of self doubt overtook him, and as he closed his eyes, he imagined Pearl running off, right into the arms of Genji Shimada. Jack had to admit he was a very handsome young man, and his personality reminded Jack of himself when he was his age, all debonair and full of charm. Perhaps he didn't know Pearl as much as he would like to say he did. He had no clue how easy it could be to lose her to someone younger, to someone more handsome, more charming, richer.

"That's it!" Jack cried out, leaping off the couch. The world spun as he stood, but he clenched his eyes tightly, and his fists even tighter. He was done feeling sorry for himself, comparing himself to others. His little mermaid chose him for a reason, she could have gone to anyone! Jesse lived nearby, and anyone in town would be willing to rush to the aid of a young girl, fresh from the sea. But no, she had chosen Jack Morrison, sailor, fisherman, soldier! He looked around at the mess around him. This place was a sty, he had to clean up! Jack pushed his turtleneck sweater sleeve's over his elbows, exposing his tattoos with pride. Time to get started!

 

Pearl stood just outside the open door of Jack's cabin, her hands full and hidden behind her back. Her nightgown was soaked, weighed down and accentuating each plump curve of her body, she had been so excited to get into the water she had neglected to take off her gift. She hoped Jack wouldn't be mad, but the current situation held her attention far more than her predicament.   
Several pieces of furniture had been dragged outside, table stacked on tables, chairs stacked on chairs, lamps and other delicate knick-knacks all placed carefully on the couch. She couldn't even get past the giant pile to enter the house. She stood on tip-toes, peering over the stacked furniture, trying desperately to look for any glance at Jack. Had he left? There was a flash of pale-yellow, and a smile burst onto Pearl's face. Jack emerged, her gifts all placed in the bag in his hands, his other hand holding the bag of books.

"Oh, hello Princess." He called out. He placed the bags just outside the door and he gave her a sheepish smile.

"I needed to clean up, but uh..." He let out a jolly chuckle, examining the pile just before the door. "It looks like you're stuck outside for a while." Pearl hid her hands behind her back, pressing into the cold fabric of her nightgown. Jack noticed her forlorn face and leaned out, pushing the chairs aside.

"Once I'm done, I'll make us a banquet to make up for it, ok?" He offered, his hand outstretched. Pearl gave him a smile and a curt nod before twirling around and rushing right back to the water. Jack looked down at his hand, all calloused and scarred. Was he... already losing her? He shook his head and returned to his work, grabbing the mop. 

Pearl sat on the shore and looked down at her two hands, unfurling her fingers, peering at her gift. Her bright eyes cast out to sea, and a brilliant idea leapt into her head. If he couldn't take her gifts directly, he'd have to receive them in a different way. She placed the gift in a little hole and covered it with a mound of sand before leaping to her feet, rushing to the water and jumping right in, once again forgetting to take off her dress.

 

 

It had taken Jack all day, but he had finally cleaned his entire home, top to bottom. The floors shone, not even a speck of dust remained, and he had even cleaned down all of his furniture before dragging it back inside. The air felt fresher, less heavy, and Jack was infinitely proud of himself. All that was left was what was growing to be his favorite addition. He cracked the door open, looking off into the sunset, scanning the beach. Pearl stood just off shore, her ankles submerged in water and her arms folded before her, her head cast down, hair trickling over her shoulders. Was she upset? Jack stepped out, his bare feet touching dirt.

"Princess?" He called out softly. She twirled around, the wet cloth of her nightgown sticking to her hips. She was holding onto at least 7 fish, all flopping about in her arms. 

"You can come inside now." The look in her face brightened immediately, shining like the sun as she rushed over, her toes digging in the sand. She practically threw the fish into his arms, her smile wide and heart beating wildly. Jack gave a little laugh and went in, ready to cook. He often forgot to feed himself, but he couldn't starve her just because of his little pity party. His kitchen was spotless now, and it gave him great pleasure to begin cooking in such a clean area. He placed the fish in the sink, taking them out one by one, cutting off the heads. He took a smaller knife and cut through one, getting ready to gut it. Pearl had begun to play a record, one he hadn't heard very often, and time seemed to slow to a stop as he cooked, and his little mermaid watched on eagerly. The knife went through, the fish opened and....

Pearls rained from the fish, 5 in total, onto the cutting board below. Jack watched in shock as they stilled, partially covered in blood. His knife clicked against the counter as he set it down, his eyes never leaving the pearls. How on earth did that happen? The last time he had even heard of finding something odd in a fish was in the story "Little Tin Soldier". The pearls varied in color as well, though all were roughly the same size, quite large for pearls. He could make some good money off of them, he thought to himself. He took to another fish, and another and another until they were all gutted, ready to be cleaned and cooked. His cutting board was now covered with at least 30 pearls, all varying colors.

"What on earth?" He mumbled under his breath. This was ridiculous! He noticed Pearl out of the corner of his eye, standing from her place beside record player. She was playing with her fingers, an absent minded nervous tick, and Jack looked to her face. She struggled to contain her smile, forcing her lips down into a strange almost pouting face, her brows furled ever so gently together. He eyes her necklace - it didn't look like any were missing, nowhere near 30. He let out a little huff, his lips tugging to the side in a smirk. With an open hand he pushed all of the pearls into his palm, lifting them up to the light. Pearl watched on in utter delight.

"I wonder where these came from?" He joked, looking her straight in the eye. She froze for a moment, locked in his gaze, before she nonchalantly walked away, taking a seat near the dining table and trying her hardest to turn and look completely away from him.

"Must be a gift from the sea." He concluded, letting the pearls clutter together in a small, unused ashtray he sat nearby. He'd have to go into town and try to sell them, maybe Gabriel would buy them and sell them in his shop. Or maybe Jesse, he always loved to surprise his wife with gifts. Jack began on dinner, keeping to his promise of a banquet fit for royalty.


	9. Heat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING! This chapter gets a little steamy, but it does have some plot to it as well. Just a warning before you lovely readers dive right in. ;)

"Did you enjoy dinner?" Jack stood over the kitchen sink, scraping at the remnants of their banquet. Pearl sat contently folded in the large chair by the fire, gently patting her belly, a pleased look on her face. Jack let out a soft chuckle and returned to the dishes, placing them on the rack to dry. He was hoping to get some more reading done before the sun went down, he always had a difficult time reading once it became dark as he saved money on electricity by not using it unless it was completely necessary. Sometimes the fireplace was enough. But dinner had taken a while, and there were only shreds of light left. He wiped his wet hands on his pants and stalked over to the living room, standing above her sitting in his chair.

"Move over Princess, this is my throne." He teased, crossing his arms over his chest in authority. She let out a little moan, quite displeased with having to move but steadily rolled over, pulling herself onto her feet long enough to collapse contently into the couch, hair sprawled around her and legs askew off the side. He had placed the bag of books beside the large chair, and his knees cracked as he sat down, picking up the very last book. This book was old, no title written on the worn brown leather, and the edges were frayed beyond belief. Several of the pages were crumpled from being closed wrong, and several pages slipped out onto his lap.

"Damn, this thing is ancient." He muttered, trying very slowly to crack the old thing open. Pearl scampered over, sitting on her knees just between his legs on the floor, resting her cheek on his inner knee, peering softly up into his eyes. His whole face burst bright red, the heat spreading from his cheeks down his neck and up into his ears, over the past few days she had gotten quite... touchy. It wasn't awful, on the contrary, Jack loved it. But he knew she didn't understand the consequences of sitting so... close. She watched complacently as he tried desperately to read, going to far as to place the book in a way to block her face to prevent himself from being distracted. There was a section on Selkies, with a drawing of a young woman with long, black hair and piercing black eyes, just as the other book had shown. She even wore her seal skin, wrapped about her body like a large shawl. Perhaps it didn't apply to his little mermaid, but they were a Scottish mythological creature, perhaps they had something in common. There were some basic notes, like their seal forms in the water and how they could take them off like a coat. But as he read on, it felt less and less like a story, and more a scientific observation. The book had no title, could he have run across a journal? As he read on, he completely forgot Pearl's presence below him, his fingers clutching the book tighter and tighter. 

The Selkies were often forced to stay on land, married to the men who stole their seal coats. They could have regular children just like any mortal woman, but if they ever found their seal coats, they would sometimes take the children and run back to the sea, all becoming Selkies and never returning to land. Others simply left, leaving everything behind. He let the book lower, his gaze slowly crawling upwards, his mind lost in thoughts. Then why did Pearl have legs? She arrived with nothing but her necklace, she had no skirt of scales that she put on or a sort of shawl. And surely it wasn't the necklace, if he were a merman, he wouldn't give his transforming necklace to a stranger as payment, no matter how much help he needed. But when she offered to give it to him, she did have tears...

Jack let out a groan, pulling the book back to his face to continue reading. It was fascinating, the extremely detailed recollections of encounters with these selkie women. The author wrote extensive sections on where the encounters took place, on what beach, what the weather was like, the disposition of the people who were involved. There were some more sections, all very detailed stories of selkie families and such, and at last Jack fell into the section of the book that spoke of mermaids. Each chapter was the same as the selkie section, all details and descriptions of beaches where they had been seen, the people affected, etc etc. He began to flip through the pages, keeping an eye out for the reason they could grow legs. He had an inkling it wasn't the same way Selkies grew legs. As he skimmed, his eyes fell upon the swooping letters of an interesting chapter. A lovely mermaid was drawn there, lounging seductively over the writing, her hair trailing down, pooling above the words. It was a whole chapter on mermaid reproduction, and Jack felt his whole body boil with blood that was far too hot, like molten lava through his veins. It was no different to the sex ed books he had to read as a young man, but it still got him hot under the collar at the idea. At once he zeroed in, his focus completely on the words before him.

There were particular mating rituals different mermaids would partake in. One popular one was when the mermaids would create a sheath out of whatever they could and wear it about their waist, and the mermen would, in turn, make a knife. Many of these knives were made out of wood or bone, others stolen from pirates and sailors, and the merman would give his mermaid of choice his knife. If she accepted, she would then put his knife into the sheath she wore about her waist. It was a little... suggestive, Jack pondered. He continued, and it seemed that the mer people were ferociously vicious when it came to their mates. They would even go so far as to kill others that came too close. It was written that after the whole knife incident, when the breeding season came along, these couples would... oh dear. Jack had to put the book down, letting it close without marking his page. No way. No way! Pearl had left once more, now peering out the window, her hand pressed gently against the glass. She looked forlornly towards the sea, and Jack thought he would melt by how hot he felt. The mer couples would go onto the beaches, they would turn their tails into legs and proceed to have massive orgies on the beach. There could be hundreds of them at a time, all crowded on an unpopulated beach. Then they would return to the sea for nine months, and the mermaids would return, grow legs once more, and give birth just as human women do. Jack couldn't believe it, so Pearl was... she...

"Princess?" Jack whispered, his voice shaky and hoarse. She perked her head up and spun on her heel, clutching the material of her nightgown. She padded over, kneeling quickly to the floor beneath him, peering up through thick eyelashes once more. She was going to be the death of him.

"This book says..." He began, lifting the book once more. He couldn't just ask her, who on earth asks something like that of a girl? Jack regretted it immediately as he continued, his voice a hushed and ashamed little whisper.

"This book says when you grow legs, you..." The look in her eyes, the curve of her breasts in the white cloth and the peek of flesh, the firelight dancing across her smooth shoulders, the straps of the nightgown falling slightly. He felt like a predator eyeing his pray. He could see every detail, feel the heat of the fire, the clothing on his skin, his fingers that dug sharply into the book in his hands, the sound of the ocean and the crackling of the fire. It was all almost overwhelming.

"Mate." He choked. The innocently curious look on her face fell, slipping into something more seductive, her eyes hooded and lips curled in a kissable little smile. She slowly stood, placing her hands on his knees as she leaned in closer. She was close enough to smell, and the way she stood over him made the material of her gown fall, exposing even more of the flesh of her breasts. One hand trailed up his leg, brushing over his chest. She palmed his chest, massaging his pec before trickling up his neck, tickling the soft flesh just behind his ear. 

"Jack." She whispered. She opened her palm, softly cupping the side of his face, and she gave him a chaste kiss right on his lips. Jack couldn't help himself, his hands flying up to grip at her waist. She pulled back like a whip, her eyes open and full of mischief. She smacked his hands and he flinched, pulling his hands away once more. Before he could wonder if she disliked it she returned to placing kisses on his lips, closing her eyes and smiling all the while. He was frozen in place: what was he supposed to do? She must have noticed his hesitance and leaned back just a bit, eyeing his face. His lips were shut tight in a thin line, and she gave a little impatient huff. Her legs swung over his as she slinked right into his lap, pining his shoulders back against his chair. She leaned forward once more, opening her mouth and giving licks to his top lip. Oh god, Jack was certain she could feel his erection in his pants press against her as she licked and licked, trying desperately to incite him. He let out a little whimper, closing his eyes tightly. He couldn't give in! He was a rational adult, and he tried his damnedest to act like it. But his mind was racing, the room was too hot, he was dying! His fingers itched to touch, and they shook and trembled as he raised them to her hips again, clutching at the soft flesh. Once again she gave them a gentle slap, and a moan escaped his lips. She was just too much! Her glazed eyes looked at his lips, watching as they trembled, little husky breaths leaking. His chest was heaving beneath her, he was enjoying it a little too much. He thought he would burst at the burning pleasure of his erection pushed down beneath her heat. She took a single hand of his and pried it from the armrests, leading it close and bringing it in-between them. His palm open and fingers twitching eagerly, she placed it softly on her breast. 

"Ah, Jack..." She moaned, staring into his eyes like daggers. Jack let out a loud moan and at once obeyed, keeping his hand where she placed it. She snuck in then, pushing her tongue into his open mouth. He let out a cry of desire, his other hand clutching once more at her hips as his main hand massaged her breast, his calloused fingers brushing over her erect nipple. They kissed, their tongues wrestling and her soft lips pressing hard against his own chapped ones.

Jack had kissed girls before. There was Suzy May, at the first school dance. There was Margaret and Barbara, Esther and Tia and Monique. They had all been matches, quick to light and quick to smoke and fade. But as Pearl ground into him, his hands all over her, her hair trailing down over his shoulders as she hovered above him, dominating his lips, he felt all of his youth rush back into his body. She was intoxicating. There was a moment she pulled away, the two of them heaving and short of breath. He almost felt tears rise as he looked into her eyes.

"P-Princess..." He moaned out. This seemed to break her little spell and she froze, her eyes suddenly quite clear and face bursting bright red. She leapt from his arms and rushed to the door of his bedroom, slamming it quick behind her, leaving him alone and quite excited. Sure, Jack had wanted to be the rational adult, but with each kiss his thoughts flew off, replaced with nothing but pleasure, heat and flesh. He looked down at the book, long forgotten on the floor and leaned to pick it up, ignoring his raging erection. Written on the very last page, on the top hand corner, was the name of what Jack assumed was the author.

Reinhardt Wilhelm.

Jack leaned back into his chair, palming himself through his pants. Damn, he hadn't felt like this since he was in his twenties. If he ever met this Willhelm guy, he'd have to ask if it was normal to be so affected by a mermaid. Jack looked over to the door of his room. Maybe he had written about a way to get over a mermaid once she was back home. As Jack pulled his pants open, taking out his raging member, he thought to himself sadly. It would be difficult to see her go. She made him feel wanted, like he was someone that could keep her happy, warm and safe. And maybe even someone she could fall in love with. And Jack wondered if he would really be ok with letting it go, something he had been searching for for years.


	10. Cold

The day had come for the Lady of Clear Waters to dock, and her lavish passengers to board. Jack had gone early to pick up his suit, which fit him masterfully. The two Japanese brothers really did know what they were doing. As Jack returned to his little cabin, his heart beat painfully in his chest. He wasn't ready, he couldn't ever be ready. Not only had he never been on such a fancy ship, but what would happen to Pearl? She hardly spoke, would people find her intimidating? Would they tease her? And how would she react to being on a boat for so long, not being able to go into the sea? Did she know how to act civil around other humans? And Jack had resigned himself to being her babysitter long ago, dressing her and keeping her fed. Ever since the... kiss... she hadn't really interacted with him outside of getting dressed and eating meals, and Jack didn't know what to think. She had been proactive in the advances, had he taken it too far? She had been in complete control, but maybe she realized she hadn't enjoyed it, at least as much as he had. And now this awkwardness would continue on the boat. Jack let out an anxious sigh, this was going to be rough. He had thought the original idea was to get on the ship and drop her off, point a to point b, but now it had evolved into a quest of confusion and self doubt. He pushed open the door to his cabin and stepped inside. Pearl stood naked before the record player, one of her favorites playing. She gave a quarter turn and looked at him, bright eyes meeting his. Her face was more solemn, her smile gone and her usual healthy glow now a bit pallid. 

"We should get dressed." He suggested softly. Now as he looked at her, at her bare flesh, the spark of excitement was almost gone. Sure, he wanted to touch and caress her like the night before, but this idea was shortly followed with the vision of her frightened face, of her leaping away and hating him. He was riddled with guilt he couldn't understand, it ate away at him. He felt as if his heart were spinning tight in his chest, winding up just to stop dead. It was easy enough for him to slip on the suit and tie the tie, but as he took hold of the dress she was going to wear, he felt his anxiety build. He didn't want to say he regretted helping her, as much as he regretted helping anyone. He always wanted to make a difference, but he really hadn't expected to be so emotionally involved in this. He felt like it was more of a sacrifice than anything. Pearl stepped close and raised her hands, her back towards him. The dress was pretty, but quite simple. It was creamy and reached to her knees, trimmed with dark blue. The top was the sailor style, the same dark blue with a blush pink ribbon to tie around it. She was surprisingly easy to dress, letting him pull and twist the cloth to fall over her properly, straightening out the skirt. She even sat quite still as he rolled her stockings over her legs, followed by her black heeled shoes. He wondered how well she was going to take wearing shoes for the first time. He let his eyes wander as he buckled her small shoes. Her hair, as long as it was, would not fit in with the fashionable folks just down, as much as he adored it. The girls had given him a ribbon when he had purchased the clothing, the same pale blush as the ribbon tied round her sailor dress. He stood, ribbon in hand, and gently raked his fingers through her hair. There was a moment of silence, his hand pressed against her back, the warmth spilling into his fingertips. She gave an involuntary shudder as he ran it down her spine, barely ghosting over her dress.

"I don't know what happened last night..." He mumbled softly, taking her hair into his hands once again. Her hair was easy enough to braid, tying it off with the blush ribbon at the end. She let out a sigh, one he couldn't gleam emotion from. Was she tired? Sad? Disappointed? Once her braid was done he let it fall down her back, his hands taking her shoulders and giving them a gentle squeeze.

"But I don't want it to put a strain on our relationship." Her head flinched down, shooting her eyes to the floor below. He would give her all the space he could, and hopefully she wouldn't - 

She leapt from her seat and wrapped her arms around him, squeezing his arms to his sides. Her delicate face pressed deep into his suit, nestling her cheek against his chest, and Jack let out a soft hum. 

"Alright Princess, we'll be late for the boat home." She perked up, lifting her eyes to meet his, her mouth hidden and pressed onto his suit.

"Dachaigh?" She whispered. Jack let out a hearty laugh, wrapping an arm around her waist while placing his big open palmed hand on her head, giving it a gentle pat.

"Yup, that's right!" He assured, his smile wide and toothy. She stopped for a moment, her eyes dropping down. She tightened her little hug on him, pulling him even closer, nestling her face into his tie. Home. She was going home, to be dropped off by Jack. Then he would return here. Alone. And she, too, would be alone. As he pulled away, taking hold of their suitcases and stepping outside, he turned a bit and gave her a reassuring smile. Her feet stopped at the edge of the little cabin, her heart screaming in her chest not to leave. The soft sand, the bright sun, the warm water. The fireplace, the big chair, the records. Jack. She stepped out, following closely behind him, barely keeping up with the heels. She was leaving it all behind. The song of the sea calling to her, almost overwhelming her in her need to return, but half of her wished to stay. If only they could live in the glow of the night before, wrapped in each other and minds hazy and so very clear. Last night, everything had made sense. Now, as Jack and his little mermaid stepped onto the dock, prepared to board the grand ship, things had never been so confusing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize that this one is so short, I just wanted to make the chapter feel more bitter-sweet.


	11. To the Sea

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kind of a plot heavy chapter, to make up for the last one.

Jack and Pearl stood on the bridge connecting the dock to the grand ship, their arms linked together. He had dropped their luggage off for it to be delivered later, and as he looked around he felt ridiculously overdressed. Many of the wealthy men wore their brown suits and colorful ties, the air heavy with perfume and cigar smoke. He hadn't been in a big crowd like this since his service, when the other sailors would flock to land for all sorts of vice. But as he looked around, he noticed none of the women were nearly as dazzling as his little mermaid. She was simply dressed, and perhaps it was because he was not used to seeing her properly clothed, but it was no contest. An employee of the ship stood by, his hand open for the awaiting tickets, and Jack placed them onto his gloved hand. The man looked over them, checking their authenticity, and Jack felt the top of his collar get wet with sweat.

"I hope you two enjoy your trip." The man commented, his eyes flicking from Jack's face to the floor. He knew the kid was staring at his scars, who wouldn't. They were strokes across his face, too obvious not to notice. Jack nodded quickly, turning his eyes over to Pearl. Her eyes were sparkling with delight at the sight of all the humans walking about. The second their feet touched the boat she was off, rushing to the front of the ship. She practically leapt onto the railings, leaning forward into the wind. Her dress and hair whipped about as she gazed over the sea, twinkling with the morning light. It was gorgeous! The bright blue of the sea, all calm in it's gentle waves, and the gentle wisps of clouds floating lazily overhead, it was the perfect day to take to the seas.

"How's the view Princess?" Jack asked, leaning back on the railing. Pearl let out a little laugh, pointing off towards the sun. Jack couldn't help but smile wide, hiding a laugh behind his hand. Glad she had perked up, he couldn't stand to be in that solemn mood. He had heard that there would be a live band that night, perhaps he could take her down and they could dance. That reminded him...

"Princess." He reached his hand out, placing it over hers on the railing. She twirled her head around, letting her braid fall to the side as their eyes met, her head cocked to the side.

"Do you know how to dance?" Pearl let out a little huff, her lips in a pout as he gently peeled her off of the railing back into his arms. She shook her head, grabbing onto his arms. He gave her another soft smile.

"Well we should try it. I think you'll like it." She looked up, her face bright again. She smiled and nodded, and Jack felt his heart swell. he hadn't danced with a girl since the war, he hoped he wasn't too rusty. And depending on the setting, he didn't really know just how much fun he could have. He knew how to dance the waltz, adequate for the stuffy 1% perhaps, but his favorite dancing let him take off his jacket and tie and swing the girl like a rag doll, watching her skirt fly and feet hop. The ship seemed a bit more proper than that, but who knew, the ship may surprise him yet.

"It is a perfect day for sailing." A thick, German accented voice rang out. Jack spun around, Pearl in his arms, to the source of the voice. A man, significantly more massive than Jack stood behind them, a younger blond woman by his side. The man was huge, his arms the size of tree trunks, he barely fit into his suit. His face was wrinkled with age, and his white hair and beard were trimmed quite nicely. The young lady beside him wore a simple beige suit with a modest skirt, her blond hair curled about, blue eyes shining. Wow, Jack thought. She looks like a movie star. She looked him in the eyes, her own blue once barely flicking from his scars to his eyes, she seemed used to the sight of scars.

"Yes, it is." Jack remarked softly. The man gave a great big laugh, and the woman beside him chuckled behind her gloved hand, and Pearl's grip on Jack's arms tightened.

"My name is Reinhardt Willhelm, it is a pleasure to meet you." He stretched out his hand, massive compared to Jack's, and his heart seized in his chest. Wait, wasn't he...

"I think I know you!" Jack commented, taking Reinhardt's hand and giving it a strong shake. "You've written about mermaids, haven't you?" The look on the two of their faces was priceless, eyes wide and mouths agape. For a moment Jack felt foolish. What if it wasn't the same person? There could be more than one Reinhardt Willhelm, and the chance of meeting the author of the book he had read just the literal day before was one in a trillion. Reinhardt let out a boisterous laugh that nearly made the sea tremble, causing several people's head to snap over in distaste. 

"Why yes, I have!" He shouted, quite pleased with himself. The woman placed a hand on his arm and he at once quieted himself, leaning a bit closer to Jack, keeping his hand over Jack's.

"Are you a fan?" He gave a quick smile, flashing white teeth. "Shall I give you an autograph?" Jack almost felt overwhelmed, the man was standing right over him.

"Oh no, thank you." Jack mumbled softly, looking down at Pearl. She was staring intently at Reinhardt, her brows furrowed tightly and eyes squinting at the intensity of her stare, as if trying to peel him apart with sheer will alone. 

"I would like you to meet Miss Angela Ziegler, my assistant in all of my research." Reinhardt introduced her, pulling her closer to the other two. She gave a dazzling smile and a courteous nod.

"What a coincidence to meet someone who has read our work on our way to one of our favorite research spots." Angela spoke, placing her gloved hand over her heart. She too had a German accent, and Jack gave her a meek smile. She seemed kind.

"My name is John Morrison, but people call me Jack." Finally their hands separated, and Jack noticed that Reinhardt's eyes fell down to Pearl, a look of contemplation cast over his face. Even Angela had grown silent, looking Pearl up and down. Pearl practically leapt forward, standing on her tip toes and lifting her arm straight ahead, pointing her finger directly at Reinhardt's nose.

"Bodach!" She cried out, again earning the glare's of the other passengers. The two of them were stunned into silence, slowly turning to look at each other before a fire lit in Reinhardt's eyes. He turned around quickly, eyeing all of the passengers around them before returning to Jack, leaning down with a hand cupped over his mouth to hide his speech.

"We can't talk here. Join us downstairs?" He suggested quietly. Angela nodded solemnly, and Jack took a deep breath in. What did he have to lose? Jack gave a nod and the two of them followed their new friends down into the belly of the ship.

 

"I cannot believe it, I cannot escape mermaids no matter where I go!" Reinhardt cried out, slapping his knee happily. Angela had taken Pearl over to her side of the room, showing her all of her lovely jewelry. Pearl handled them all carefully, playfully pretending to try them on before placing them on the bed beside her in neat separate piles, just as she had done with his records. 

"What a coincidence that I meet you the day after I read that journal." Jack commented, using a finger to loosen his tie. He had taken off his black coat, letting it hand off the back of his chair, a whiskey in his other hand. Reinhardt took a hearty sip of his own drink before placing the cup onto the table before them.

"And to think I would meet a mermaid I had studied before, here in a different sea!" He cried out happily, a wide smile on his face. Pearl recognized the two of them, apparently they had all met back in Scotland on one of their research trips, and were all quite happy to see each other again. Jack felt out of the loop.

"Do you have any questions, my boy?" He inquired, examining the glass cup before him. OH yes, Jack had a million and one questions. Most of them were why she chose him, but he would have to narrow it down to just a few.

"Why did she choose me?" Jack whispered, leaning in over the table. Reinhardt pulled back for a moment, scratching his chin with his fingers, eyes cast to the ceiling. He furrowed his brows, closing his eyes and leaning back down again, still hard at thought. Jack knew it, Reinhardt had no idea why he would be chosen to help a mermaid. Reinhardt opened his eyes and leaned to the side, looking over to where Angela and Pearl sat.

"Pearl." He called out with his rough, calm voice. She stopped playing with Angela's jewels and turned, looking into his eyes, cocking her head to the side.

"Why did you chose Jack to help you?" He asked. Jack spat out all of the whiskey in his mouth, quickly slapping his hand over his mouth.

"You can't just ask her!" He choked out, wiping away the whiskey from his shirt. Shit, he hoped it wouldn't stain. He turned in his seat, looking over at Pearl. Angela watched on curiously as Pearl gave a little smile while stroking her necklace, feeling the familiar shells and pearls beneath her fingers.

"A sheòid." She commented, her face one of complete calm before she returned to Angela's jewels, twiddling with the gold and glittering pieces. Reinhardt let out a long oh, pushing himself back into his chair, tipping it back onto two legs. Jack worried it would crack beneath him and send him to the floor, but the wood held fast.

"What does that mean?" Jack asked, looking between Pearl and Reinhardt. He gave Jack a little smirk and a wink, his hand rubbing his white beard.

"So how did the little mermaid meet her hero?" He teased, quite pleased by the whole situation. 

"H-Hero?" Jack sputtered. What the hell, he wasn't anyone's hero, let alone hers. He just gave her clothes and took her on a ship, nothing else. He spun around again, catching Angela's curious eyes. Apparently she wanted to know too. Jack sighed, leaning back in his chair.

"I caught her in my fishing net." He noted tiredly. Both their faces grew wide and Angela stepped over, her fashionable heels clicking on the wooden floor.

"And she didn't try to kill you?" Angela inquired, wrapping her fingers around the back of Jack's chair. She smelt of flowers, an adult perfume. He turned again, meeting Pearl's eyes. There was a flash, something strange that appeared in her face that Jack couldn't decipher, and she looked back down at the jewelry in her hand, seemingly unsatisfied and bored, letting it fall to the bedsheets. 

"She bit me, but I pulled her on deck and tossed her back into the water." Jack concluded, turning back to the other two. Angela had taken the seat beside him, resting her head on her hands, her elbows pressed into the table. Reinhardt let out a hefty chuckle, slamming his hand on the table.

"Surely the most interesting encounter I've ever heard of." Angela remarked with a smile. It was rather odd, Jack thought to himself. He would have laughed at himself if he read a newspaper with the article 'Man Catches Mermaid, Throws Her Back In'. For a while longer they talked, sharing stories and tips on taking care of a mermaid. Jack was excited to learn more about mermaids, as Pearl stepped close and sat contently in Jack's lap, wrapping her arms around his neck.

 

As they left Reinhardt and Angela's cabin, Reinhardt stepped out and grabbed Jack's arm, pulling him out of hearing range of Pearl.

"I must warn you, Jack." He whispered, eyeing Pearl warily. Jack leaned in, his ears open.

"Your little mermaid will begin to feel her natural urges, but do not give in to her." He warned. Jack gulped dryly, what did he mean? As if reading his mind, Reinhardt shot him a grim look, solemn and serious.

"Mermaids mate for life."

 

Jack and Pearl walked back to their cabin and turned in, quite tired from their busy day, but Jack could not sleep. Pearl couldn't swim in the ocean, which means she would be stuck in mating mode until they got to Scotland. And with how she had been on him the night before, Jack couldn't imagine what would happen on this trip. He would be worried, but he was too busy in his fantasies, stirred on by the heat of his erection. If he survived to the end of this trip, Jack would declare himself the master of masturbation and be completely content in celibacy forever more.


	12. Fuddy-duddy

The next few days on the ship were blissfully easy, even with everyone staring at his scarred face. He was used to it, at this point. They would wake up, he would help Pearl get dressed, they would meet up with Reinhardt and Angela, and they would go to eat. And the rest of the day was theirs. Jack found himself nearly always bored. Shuffleboard was yawn-inducing and gossipy, the trivia was a joke, and he soon realized that all other forms of entertainment were, mostly, speaking to and gossiping with other ritzy folks. He encountered many couples fishing for a new rich friend, coming to ask about him and his 'wife', what family they were from, how much money they had blah blah blah. Jack had never in his whole life been as bored as he was here. The people were all empty hollow shells that were scrambling around to see who could kiss each other's asses harder, and the employees were quite possibly the worst of them all. If the waiters kissed his ass any harder he'd walk funny. But an eternity passed, and it was the night that Jack had been looking forward too. There was to be a band playing, and dancing for all. He couldn't wait to dance with Pearl, he hadn't danced in decades.

"Pearl, will you come dancing with me?" Jack asked playfully, fixing his tie in the mirror. Pearl leapt up behind him, clearly picking up on his cheery mood and wrapped her arms around his torso, pressing her bare breasts against his chest. He let out a little chucckle, turning round and taking her arms in his hands.

"Well we can't dance with you wearing... well, not wearing." They went over to their suitcases and Pearl sat upon the bed, placing her hands on her knees. She watched on eagerly as he withdrew the fanciest dress he had bought her. It was the same sapphire blue as her tail, and when he met her eyes he saw the glorious spark of life within them as she traced her hands on the material, fingertips ghosting over the luxurious satin. Apparently she agreed.

"The faster we get you clothed, the sooner we can dance." Jack mentioned, holding up the strapless dress. Pearl leapt to her feet and her hands shot to the ceiling like before, and Jack chuckled at her childlike enthusiasm. The dress slipped on quite nicely, ending just mid-leg with sweeping cloth and pulling in at her hips, accentuating her hips and giving her a full hourglass silhouette. She rushed over to the mirror, grabbing the hairbrush and one of the ribbons. She held them out eagerly, awaiting Jack. He gave another small smile and took them, ushering her to the bed. He climbed over, placing his legs on either side of her hips and brushed out her long hair. It was sinfully soft beneath his fingers, and he resisted taking a lock and bringing it to his nose to inhale her heavenly scent. Her bare shoulders begged for kisses, her neck screamed out to be marked by teeth and tongue, and Jack felt the white hot urge rising again. Angela had been very kind and given Pearl a few pieces of jewelry to wear on the trip. She had had fun playing with them, but none could truly compare to the pearls she adored, a small and simple strand of them, all milky white and shiny. Jack swept her brushed hair over her shoulder and draped the cool pearls over her neck, clasping it together. She traced her fingers over the cool orbs, hyperaware of Jack's presence behind her. He reached for the ribbon, but the white heat inside of him urged him to stop. To rip the dress off of her and take her right there. Pearl turned her head back towards him.

"You know..." He began, swiping his fingers over her bare shoulder. She gave a little shoulder and leaned back, urging him to wrap his arms around her. His free hand took hold of her arm, pulling her even closer into his chest. His nose nestled in her hair and he gave in, delving into her divine and cool scent.

"You should leave your hair down." Pearl turned around slowly, placing a hand over his chest, peering into his eyes. She gave a heartfelt smile, and Jack almost melted right there.

"You look beautiful." His finger stroked her cheek and she nestled into his touch. Their lips were being pulled together by the magnet of desire, so tantalizingly close. The sound of violins broke them from their reverie, and Jack sadly pulled away. She gave a bitter smile before leaping up, rushing over to the door.

"Wait, your shoes!" He called out, grabbing the black heels. She stopped short, her fingers pulling at the hem of the long dress, flashing the flesh of her legs. Jack gulped dryly and kneeled down, taking her soft calf into his hand. No, Jack, just put her shoes on and go he lectured himself. But her legs were so soft, so smooth beneath his fingers. God, he wanted nothing more than to tug that leg over his shoulder and do something that would make Priests blush. The shoes slipped on easily, her hand using his shoulder to balance on. If only she'd push her fingers into his hair and tug him closer, to order him around and force him to do the unspeakable. But he knew it was a charm, a spell she was casting. Reinhardt had said that being near a mermaid in her mating form was disastrous, making any man weak in the knees. That was the point, she was meant to be sexy and alluring. As he rose, Pearl gave him her hand, and he softly took it, leading her down the hall to the ball room.

 

 

Jack was shocked. Once again, those damned rich people had their fingerprints all over the 'Fun Dance.' Stiff waltzes. Stale tangoes. And the blandest collection of white biscuits who thought the world of themselves. Where was the passion, the spice, the pizzaz! It don't mean a thing if it ain't got that swing as Duke Ellington once said. And these posh stick-in-the-mud's couldn't swing if they were tied to a vine. A foxtrot would be spicier than a jalapeño to these bland crackers. Pearl leaned over and met his eyes, reading his emotion. Damn, he had gotten excited over nothing. Of course this was how these squares were going to dance. He had hoped for something... more. He wanted to show Pearl his moves, his real dance moves, the moves that had him hot and sweaty and full of passion and love. Sure he might throw out his hip doing some of the more intense dances but damn it he wanted to give it his all. He felt her tug on his suit and try to lead him out to the floor. Well, he wasn't going to just walk away after taking the time to both dress and excite her. He gave her a forced smile and walked to the edge, far enough away from the crowd that they wouldn't be zoned in on. He placed her hands where they needed to be and put his hand on the small of her back.

"Go ahead and put your feet onto mine, Princess." He coached, leaning in with a whisper. A single brow rose in confusion as she complied, stepping onto his bright shoes. The music was good enough to dance to, a simple waltz. He stepped in time, swirling Pearl along with him, easing into the simple motion. She played along well, turning her head prettily to the side and closing her eyes. He rocked back and forth, his shoes sliding across the floor and though her skirt was short enough to show her feet on his, quite an infantile gesture, her sweeping cloth and the elegance of her manner was enough to convince anyone she was cultured. She gave a soft sigh, meeting his eyes. It looked like she was having fun. That made Jack happy enough, he decided.

"You really do look like a Princess with that dress on." He couldn't stop his eyes from following the heart shape of her bodice, hugging her breasts tightly and pushing her cleavage to daylight. And the pearls glittered like her eyes, soft and milky. Her long hair tickled his hand that lay on the small of her back, hugging her close to him. He hadn't noticed but others around them had slowed, if not stopped to watch the two. They chuckled and gawked, their eyes settling on a sight quite fetching. Even Reinhardt and Angela watched on, quite surprised to see their new friends. The music swooned to an end, and Jack stopped short, his legs straight like in the army. The audience clapped and swarmed them immediately, engulfing the two in a near panic. Jack practically lifted Pearl into his arms, his heart set on fleeing the scene.

"Very good, my friend!" Jack heard a blissfully familiar voice boom out. The crowd dispersed, leaving room for Reinhardt and Angela to intervene and keep them at bay. Pearl noticeably relaxed in his arms, and Jack let his shoulders fall. This was quickly becoming more of a hassle than it was worth. Jack flashed a glance down to Pearl. She was tired, noticeably so. The flocking of people wore her out, it seemed.

"You look tired, Miss Pearl." Angela noted, placing a motherly hand on her forehead. She gave a little nod, her lips closed and eyes cast downward. Perhaps Jack shouldn't have taken her out if she was beat by one dance.

"Yeah, I think your right." Jack agreed, still holding Pearl quite close. Reinhardt ushered them to the double doors and left the two alone in the hall, the sound of the music starting up again muffled behind the great doors. Jack looked down shamefully at his scuffed shoes. He had hoped for a grand old time, like a fairytale. This whole trip was proving quite taxing on his poor little mermaid. They walked slowly down the hall, back to their room, and a gentle hum hung in the air, an indeterminable sound from deeper in the ship. Jack was so disappointed, this felt like a walk of shame. He wished he hadn't pumped Pearl up so much, even she seemed deflated. She stopped behind him, taking hold of his sleeve.

"I know, Pearl. I'm sorry that was such a bust." He mumbled, looking down at his feet. What a dud. "That room was full of more fuddy-duddies than I had thought." She tugged on his sleeve again, pulling him back just a bit. There was that hum again, quivering and echoed in the empty halls. That couldn't be the ship, Jack thought to himself. Pearl bobbed in place, her hand tapping against her hip, a humming sound floating from her lips. It was a familiar melody, one he had heard many times. Very popular, though muddled with muffled noise, but he couldn't recognize it. Wait... wait! It was swing! The horns, the bass, he knew this by heart! It was Glenn Miller's 'In The Mood'. Everyone knew that tune! He turned to Pearl, whose face had lit up once more, the sparkle back in her eye. She gave him a quick smile. Sweet, perhaps, but one full of mischief. Oh, he knew exactly what she wanted to do. Reinhardt had told him to take her to bed, to sleep it off, to play it safe. But Jack had never been one for following boring old rules.

"Come on Princess." He smiled, holding out his hand. She took it firmly and hopped close, shucking off her shoes in the process.

"Let's go dancing."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_CI-0E_jses
> 
> Here's a link to Glenn Miller's In The Mood. Everyone knows that song, even if they don't know the name or artist. Just hold on tight reader, it's about time Jack let loose! Let's swing, baby!


	13. Sway With Me

Jack and Pearl ran down the halls, turning and leaping down stairs, eager to find the source of the music. He felt 20 years younger, his heart fluttering like a bird. He and his dame were running off to cure the blues, to dance the night away! The Romeo to her Juliet, the left to his right, the moon in his night, his whole body buzzed with energy.

"Come on!" He urged, leaping down more stairs. He turned and grabbed her hips, lifting her down and placing her beside him before busting out into a full run. She giggled wildly behind him, holding tightly to his hand. At last, the trumpets were loud enough. There was another set of double doors and they slammed to a stop, Pearl bumping right into his back. He gave her a satisfied smirk before cracking the door open.

The room was full of countless types of people, some in uniform from working on the ship, others not so formally dressed. The girls wore the swing dresses, the men wore casual slacks and opened shirts, their suspenders either falling off or long forgotten at their hips. Several of the couples turned to view the newcomers, their happy smiles falling.

"A bunch of muddy-duddies." One remarked spitefully. One of the waiters from before waltzed up, his arms pinned behind his back, a firm frown on his face. 

"Sir, madam." He nodded to the two of them. Jack nodded awkwardly back, peering over his shoulder at the band. A full band? Perfect.

"I believe you have found the wrong party room. Allow me to lead you to the Formal Dancing Hall." The waiter brushed past him, holding the door open for the two of them. Pearl let out a tired huff and tugged on Jack's sleeve. He raised a hand in protest.

"And go back to those dead-hoofers?" Jack laughed out loud. "You've got to be joking." The couples around them burst into whispers, all hushed and confused. Jack raised a finger and pulled at his tie, letting it fall loose in his hands.

"I've come to dance." He announced. The room fell silent, and from behind him he heard loud shoes clicking. Jack removed his jacket and turned around, the waiter slipping from behind him back into the crowd once more. A man stood before him, lanky and tall with blond hair that refused to be slicked back. His brown eyes glittered like a trickster, and he smiled revealing chipped and skewed teeth.

"An' what makes ya think you can dance?" He teased. His voice was thick with an Australian accent, and it took Jack by surprise. Almost. Jack chuckled, tossing his coat over to one of the piles of coats before uncuffing his sleeves, rolling them over his elbows. The crowd gasped and cooed at the sight of his tattoos, and even the young man before him gave a surprised little smirk.

"I take it that you're the best dancer in here?" Jack inquired, sizing him up. The man threw his head back and tossed a mischievous laugh to the crowd, putting his hands on his hips and squaring his shoulders back.

"I'm fuckin' ace, mate!" Jack smirked. He had met some Australians while in the navy, the boys were hot-headed and ready to fight. Jack felt right at home.

"Then let's see, huh?" This had the aussie's attention. A sweet little thing skipped over, dressed in a sky blue dress and took the aussie's arm, ready to dance.

"Careful ya don't break ya hip, old man." He teased, his eyes aflame. The girl beside him slapped his arm, her lips in a pout. She fixed her brown hair back into it's bun, her eyes just as twinkling.

"Just don't trip up with those noodles you call legs." Jack teased back. He spun around, taking Pearl's hip in his hand. Wait. Oh no. He had been so caught up in his little pissing contest he had forgotten something detrimentally important. She couldn't dance.

"Oh, uh..." His throat clenched up. Well, if he couldn't win this stupid little contest, at least he hoped Pearl would have fun. Oh, but the swing could get complicated. It was working with your partner, learning their moves. They had danced one lousy waltz.

"Whatever you do, don't let go of my hand, ok?" He held up his hand, palm up, waiting for her fingers to slip through. She took it happily, her eyes glittering. They walked out onto the dance floor, just beside the other couple. The aussie towered over his plump little partner, who smiled so happily it was nearly blinding.

"Ready, Mei?" The aussie inquired cheerfully, holding out his hand. She took it softly, giving him a nod. Jack turned to look at Pearl, feeling her fingers clutch tightly to his.

"Ready to have some real fun?" Peal let out a soft chuckle, taking a side step closer. And just like that, the music began.

 

 

Starting out was easy enough. Pearl was already excited enough to dance, making her dances all much happier and bouncier than before. Jack's plan was simple. He knew she would do her best not to let go of his hand, but if he pulled it out of hers she would instinctively reach for it. That's when he would grab it with the other, urging her into a spin. His plan was perfect! His feet were jiving to the beat, and it was just coincidence that it was a great song, 'It Don't Mean a Thing'. He had a record of it at home, one that Pearl listened to many times. They were off, Pearl tapping her toes and bobbing along as Jack pulled her about, swinging and lifting and twirling her about. Hey, they were doing fine! He didn't even turn his head to the competition, Pearl was entirely all in his sight. Her blue dress floated about her like water as she bopped and span, her face brighter than the sun, eyes like stars, her hair bouncing about playfully. She couldn't stop the spews of laughter at each move, each little dip and hop they did together. This was the feeling he wanted: pure energy and spunk. His heart was beating to the beat, and he noticed Pearl's little feet were moving almost just like his, too fast and soft, she was getting the hang of it. Her lips were moving, and the whole room was at once engulfed in her heavenly sound, the music now suddenly thrumming through his veins.

"It don't mean a thing if it ain't got that swing~!" She sang along, giggling playfully. Jack was enraptured, completely swept away in the moment. All he saw was her, the colors of others blurring together in a dreamy haze. The trumpets sang, the drums beat with his heart, the base kept his blood pumping. This was what dancing was all about!

"It don't mean a thing, all you gotta do is swing." Jack sang along, his voice husky and low. It rumbled through the two of them, their blood buzzing from the excitement. He felt them get faster, swinging harder and Jack almost couldn't breath, it was too much fun!

"Makes no difference if you're sweet or hot~!" Jack chuckled, pulling her closer with a flirtatious wink. She let out a cry of joy, her cheeks painted pink.

"Just give that rhythm everything you've got!" They crooned together, his voice gravely and hers soaring like a bird. The whole room felt dizzyingly hot as they bounced along, and Jack at once forgot every thought and worry in his head. Pearl was lovely, a bead of sweat trailing down her forehead, down her neck and over her breasts. She was delectable, and in this euphoria he knew he would crumble. They met eyes and Jack fell in love all over again. He wouldn't think of dropping her off in Scotland, what he would do after, hell, he wouldn't even think of what they were going to do once the song ended. He wished he could live in this moment forever. 

But then his brain leapt back to the memory of that hot night they shared. Her soft skin, the cool air, her soft lips. His eyes began to clear and his ears opened again, hearing the last little trill of the song. He took her hand and pulled her close, giving her a little twirl before lifting her right onto his hips, her legs pushed to one side. He grabbed the small of her back and leaned down, balancing half of her on his knee, her head nearly touching the floor. She cried out in delight, wrapping her hands around his neck. The crowd roared around them, clapping hands and whistling and shouting. There were compliments to both couples, but Jack couldn't focus. His hands around her waist, her eyes staring right into his. Her lips pulled into a soft smile, full of adoration. She was picturesque, her dress hiked over her voluptuous legs, her breathing shallow and eyes hooded. Jack was panting like a dog, and at once his whole body ached, maybe he had pulled something while they danced.

"I'll be stuffed!" The aussie shouted out, pulling his partner over to Jack. He hefted Pearl onto her feet once more, pulling her close to his heaving body.

"Howly dooly, now that was ace!" He shot out an open hand, ready for a shake. Jack took it in earnest, his hand slightly trembling.

"Th'name's Fawkes. Jamison Fawkes." His grin was infectious, and Jack found himself smirking.

"John Morrison." He announced. Pearl leaned in close, her hand gripped tightly on his sweaty shirt. "Call me Jack." Jamison pulled the sweet little thing beside him closer, earning a blush on her cheeks.

"An this is my sheila, Mei." She let out a little giggle and a wave with her fingers.

"Hallo." She smiled, reaching forward to take one of Pearl's hands. Jack noticed her accent, Chinese, perhaps. She was small, stout, and adorable, her thick glasses making her eyes look big and dewey.

"You have a very pretty voice." Mei complimented, giving Pearl's hand a gentle shake. She merely nodded in response, still quite stirred by the dance.

 

 

The whole night went by so fast Jack almost had whiplash. They had danced some more, less competitively, of course. He had even danced a bit with Jamison, showing off their individual moves. Pearl sang along with every song she knew, and Jack had two fists ready for any man who came too close to her. But she enjoyed herself immensely, and he did in turn. They stumbled back to their room early in the room, giggling and flushed. But his whole body ached, and he knew he would be incredibly sore the next morning. He practically collapsed onto his bed, smashing his face into his pillow.

"My back hurts..." He mumbled. He barely managed to pull off his shirt and belt, leaving on his suit pants. He'd probably have them cleaned or something, it didn't matter. He was dead tired. He heard movement off in the corner, most likely Pearl taking off her clothes. He lay still, listening to the sound of her pearl necklace clinking against the table. The bed moved beside him and he forced himself up to look at her. She had on her nightgown, she at least had learned how to put that one on. She traced her hand over his back, fingernails tracing his scars and weary bones.

"Oh, damn..." He moaned, flopping back down onto the bed. He felt pressure on his butt, and he quickly realized that she had straddled his butt, her hands pressing down on his lower back, digging into burning muscles and cracking bones.

"That feels like Heaven, Princess." Her cool fingers were divine on his back. He didn't know when he had fallen asleep, but waking up to see her nestled in his arms, breathing slowly and hair tousled about, Jack felt his heart heave painfully in his chest. Perhaps he had subconsciously realized it, but this was the day they would dock in Scotland. And he wasn't ready to give her up, not now. But he would have to put his feelings aside, for her sake. But he wanted nothing more than to be the most selfish son of a bitch on the entire planet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qDQpZT3GhDg
> 
> It Don't Mean a Thing - Duke Ellington
> 
> Did any of you get a Titanic vibe? Don't worry, it won't end badly.


	14. Fairy Pools

It was too early for Jack to be awake, his blood still churning the alcohol out. But the knocking on his door roused him, and he irritably cracked the door open. 

"What?" He croaked out, his voice hoarse from the night before. Pearl hadn't awoken just yet, luckily.

"I heard about your little romp last night." Reinhardt spoke, his voice deep and solemn. Jack let out a tired sigh, rubbing at the wrinkles between his brows. Yup, definitely too early for him to be awake. He stepped out of the room and gently closed the door, effectively cancelling any noise they were to make. 

"Yeah? What of it?" He barked. He was in no mood to fight, but his blood was boiling. Today was the last day he had with Pearl, and he had to start it off arguing with Reinhardt? The giant man sighed, his shoulders slumping as he leaned down to Jack, his face red and angry.

"You're becoming too attached, it's dangerous." Jack had to laugh. Dangerous? Pearl? What, would she kiss him to death? Put her hand just a bit too close to his dick and give him a heart attack? Reinhardt growled, baring his teeth.

"Don't underestimate her, Jack. She's pretty, yes." He commented, putting his big hand on Jack's shoulder, practically engulfing it. "But she can kill." Jack rolled his shoulder, shaking Reinhardt's hand off. His eyes were steel, solid and firm.

"She hasn't done anything to me." Jack noted, crossing his arms. Reinhardt grabbed Jack's hand, lifting it between them, right in Jack's kine of sight.

"And this? Have you already forgotten?" Jack looked at the flesh of his hand, where his thumb and wrist met, teeth scars now purple and slightly puffy. Oh. He had forgotten. When they first met, Pearl had bitten him. He ripped his hand from Reinhardt's grasp, hiding it behind his back.

"It was in self defense." He muttered under his breath. "She was scared." Reinhardt let out a tired, irritated sigh, rubbing his forehead with the palm of his hand.

"I understand, Jack. She is so beautiful, she yearns to be touched, to be loved." Reinhardt looked at his own hands, his eyes full of sorrow.

"But this can only lead to heartbreak." The sadness that laced his voice shocked Jack, full of remorse and regret. Full of heart ache. No wonder Reinhardt researched mermaids tirelessly, it's the only relief he could find to soothe his own wounds. But Jack couldn't stand the way he spoke of Pearl. She wouldn't go through all of this just to tease him, for the fun of it. She wasn't using him, just as much as he was using her. Sure, he didn't know all of the answers, but this was different.

"She's different." Jack insisted, his hands clenched into tight fists. Reinhardt put his hand back onto Jack's shoulder, and this time Jack let it stay.

"Your mind would be clear if you hadn't slept with her." Reinhardt replied solemnly, shaking his head in disappointment. 

"The hell do you know?!" Jack shouted, wrenching himself back. Reinhardt's eyes shot open wide, his hand clutching at empty air before him. Jack's whole face was red, his face scrunched in pain.

"We haven't even...!" He stopped himself, biting on his lips. He tasted blood, and he filled at once with shame and embarrassment. Reinhardt thought of him a lovesick fool, touch starved enough to fall into an easy trap. Jack was overemotional, letting his anger build up and overflow within him. He didn't want to see Pearl go. He didn't know how to feel, how he would feel seeing her fingers slip from his hands, down down down into the water below, where she belonged. Where he dare not follow her. No matter where she went, he couldn't follow. He had no tail, no gills. They were star crossed, destined to never be. He saw it now. A regular Romeo and Juliet. And even if she had stayed, if they.... God forbid, if they had children, what would they be? Would they belong to land, or to the sea? Would she run away with them like the Selkies do? Jack slouched against the wall, sliding down onto the ground unceremoniously. His hands cupped his face, balanced on his knees. His nose tingled painfully, and his hands felt suddenly wet. Reinhardt took a few steps back, looking down.

"So you resisted." He sounded almost shocked, and Jack could practically hear the cogs in the man's head turning. Jack shook his head, staining his cheeks with more tears.

"No, she always... always caught herself." He whispered. Even she knew it, they could never be. Why couldn't they go back? Back to the heat, the warmth of her on his lap, her kisses, his lips on her neck, his hands on her thighs. The heat was gone now, and the closer they got to Scotland, the further apart they were pulled. He felt like he was drowning on land, his face wet and lips tasting of salt. Reinhardt had gone silent, pulling into his own head, jumbled in his thoughts. The door cracked open and Pearl emerged, her hair tumbling over her shoulders, her nightgown straps slipping. She kneeled down, wrapping her arms around Jack's form. His tears dried at once in her presence, he couldn't show the weakness. He let out a tired laugh, turning his head to look into her eyes.

"I got something in my eye, it hurt like a bitch." He joked, rubbing his eye as if it was still sore. She had put on her pearl and shell necklace once more. She was ready to go. She slipped her hand into Jack's, wrapping her other one around his wrist, pulling him to his feet once more. He followed along quietly, his eyes cast to the floor. She led him through the halls, up the stairs, onto the deck of the ship. The early morning was misty, the land barely visible beneath the blanket of white. The bridge had been lowered, allowing the two of them to sneak off onto land.

 

They had been walking for over an hour, and Jack's feet began to ache. He had, luckily brought his shoes, but the fine leather was no match for the sharp and jagged rocks of the roads. Pearl walked on undeterred, though her feet had become red. Jack could no longer handle the silence.

"Princess, listen..." He began. She stopped suddenly, making him crash into her back. She turned her head, a single finger raised to her lips. He couldn't see her face, read the pain in her eyes. He nodded sadly, and they continued on.

 

At last, it seemed, they reached their destination. The grass was unnaturally green, so vibrant and lush compared to America. He heard the sound of falling water off in the distance. They had gone far from sea, where did she live? They climbed down a hill, he gave her assistance as much as he could, the hill was steep and full of more sharp rocks. Just below there was a flat basin of pale gray stone, with a single stripe that separated the basin, a crevice filled with blue green stones. It looked like a road. As they neared Pearl leapt down, her feet making contact with the gray stone, sending nearly invisible water splashing up her legs. Jack's mouth hung open as he stared at the landscape.

A great waterfall fell just before them, at the end of the strange blue green trail of small rocks, sandwiched between slabs of smooth gray stone. Mist ended just at the edges of the pool, trickling and dying off over the surface of the water, clear as glass. He quickly shucked off his shoes, stepping into the water. It was freezing cold, like ice! His toes grew red instantly as he continued to follow her, her hand in his. The blue green trail of rocks below was smoother than it let on, being made of thousands of medium and small rocks, making a trail right to the center of the waterfall, leading the way. They neared the waterfall, the sound nearly deafening, the water sprinkling and painting his once dry shirt with little spots. She turned to the side, peering into his eyes again. There was something wild that sparkled in her eyes, something almost feral in the way she looked at him. He gulped dryly, understanding exactly what was to happen. They needed to go into the waterfall. He let go of her hand, wrapping his hands around his arms preemptively. He nodded. She took a few steps back, watching the waterfall before her. The water that clung to her ankles didn't hold her down, and she leapt easily into the waterfall, disappearing like a flash. Damn, Jack hadn't anticipated anything like this. But it was an adventure. With a cautious shiver, he leapt in after her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I do have some pictures that I have based this part and the next part of the story off of. They're in the Isle of Skye, the Fairy Pools. They are so gorgeous, I suggest you take some time to look up some pictures! But I will supply the link to the one references in this specific chapter.
> 
> https://i.pinimg.com/564x/2b/51/91/2b519146bae7d9e86a8006c8e194f212.jpg


	15. The End

The cave was quite narrow, barely any light shining through tiny cracks in the ceiling. Drops of water echoed melodically throughout the cave, and Pearl stood waiting, her hand outstretched for Jack. By now he was soaked all the way through, shivering and dreaming of going right back to the posh little ship, covering himself with the decedent and soft blankets, and sleeping for the next half-century. But the look in her eyes and his own ambition saw to it that has feet moved, his hand took hers, and he follows her through the dark. The cave swallowed them, getting smaller and smaller. It frightened Jack, he wasn't used to being so pressed up against the cold stones. It was also getting steeper and steeper, harder for his feet to stay balanced. Pearl continued on, her fingers laced tightly with his. This whole trip from the ship to the cave was silent, almost hollow. She must have been trying her best to disassociate herself from it, from him, so the blow wouldn't be so catastrophic. He knew the moment he let go of her fingers she would be lost to time. Jack stumbled forward blindly, stubbing his toe against a single rock.

"Ah, shit!" He cried out, lurching forward. This tipped his balance and he fell forward, tumbling and rolling down the rocky path. Pearl let out a frightened cry, chasing after him as fast as she could. The cave ended abruptly, and the water enveloped him completely. The water was so clear and blue-green because of the rocks at the bottom, Jack felt instantly calmed the second he shot his eyes open. There was another splash behind him, and he felt her hands touch his hips, pulling him up. The water was warm around him, calming and relaxing. He felt his muscles relax, all aches dissipate, and his worries, for only a moment, were gone. They breached, and Pearl swam quickly over to an outcrop of rocks jutting out, shallow enough in the water to sit comfortably, the water reaching only to the ankles. Jack allowed her to prop him up like a rag doll, his legs hanging off of the rocks like a chair. Her lovely tail returned, long and coiling about her. Her nightgown flowed about her, enveloping her in a white glow against the blue-green of the water. They met eyes, and his heart stopped for a moment. This was the true Pearl. Her hair seemed almost longer, snaking down her shoulders until they fanned in the water. Her eyes like fire, almost too bright to look into. Like a bird in the sky, this was where she was meant to be. She lifted herself a bit higher, using his knees as leverage. They were at eye level, and her beauty was captivating. She looked so sweet, so cruel. Jack knew instantly what the Prince felt like, viewing his princess for the first time. She gave him a smile tinged with sadness and leaned in, pressing her cold wet lips against his hot chapped ones. The air thrummed with an energy, an undecipherable melody, and Jack quickly realized the two of them were no longer alone. Pearl slipped back into the water, her head and shoulders still exposed. She held tightly to his wrists. Jack's head was spinning, he couldn't see clearly, couldn't comprehend the heat in his head. The music, louder and louder in his head, his lungs ached and his heart yearned for the water. Looking into Pearl's eyes, he wanted only one thing. 

He wanted to drown.

Jack pushed himself off the rock, submerging his hips once more into the water, and Pearl let out a soft cry of distress, her hands clenching unbelievably tight to his wrists.

"My Princess..." He cooed, taking her face in his hands and placing a kiss on her lips. One hand dropped his wrist and smacked right against his cheek, the sharp sound echoing across the rocks and water, and at once his hot spell had ended. The water was cold, his cheek ached, and he realized he was swimming in a den of hungry sharks, all eyeing him like a prized goose.

"Pearl...?" He whispered, his voice wavering with confusion. Had he been deceived? Was this really a trap? Her eyes filled with tears, but her face remained emotionless and pretty, like a doll. The mermaids around her giggled maliciously and splashed their tails, smacking them against the water. He turned his head, meeting all of their dark eyes. No, these ones were different. He looked back to Pearl, holding her shoulders in his hands. Her eyes glittered, her lips parted and hair fanning around him, sapphire scales tracing their way around his legs. She pushed him back onto the rock, holding tightly to his wrist while the other fiddled with her pearl and shell necklace. He opened his palm face up, her grip tightening around his wrist. The necklace came off easily, and it slipped right into his hand, clinking together. The whole cove was silent, the mermaids having stopped their little games, intrigued with the show.

"Tapadh leibh." She spoke, her voice barely over a whisper as she pushed herself onto his knees, kissing him once more. He couldn't tell if she was crying, or if her face was still wet. Her hand traced up his wet shirt, fingertips pressing into the flesh over his heart, just like he had done when he taught her his name.

"Jack..." She leaned in close, her hot breath tickling his face. He gulped dryly, feeling her body around him once more. Yes, this was just like when he was at home, her sitting on his lap, drinking in each other. A smile graced his lips as their foreheads met, eyes piercing into each other's.

"Dachaigh." Her fingertips burned his skin, clawing over his skin, pressing herself deeper into him. He was her home, her warmth and love and comfort. She was safe in his arms, and that is the only placed she truly wished to be. He closed his eyes, taking in her scent again, feeling her warmth. He felt her lips ghost over his once more.

When he opened his eyes, she was gone. In his hand, her precious necklace. On his lips, her precious kiss. In his heart, the purest and most unfiltered pain imaginable.

 

When Jack returned to the ship, no one asked where his pretty companion went. Reinhardt and Angela both pestered him, asking him where he had gone, what had happened, where Pearl had gone to. He returned to his room, to the bed, and stayed there until he was forced to get off back home. He walked to his cabin, and he returned to his simple life. He listened to his music, he went fishing with his friends, he drank at the bar at night, he slept.

And he dreamed of her. Her sapphire tail swirling, her hair floating around her, her glittering eyes, her warm hands. In his dreams they kissed. She told him that she loved him, and he felt happy. She told him she would return to him one day, she would swim all the way back right into his arms.

His door was always unlocked for the day she returned, and he sat there, listening to one of his records, the melody ringing in the small, empty little cabin, resounding in his heart.

 

If it takes forever, I will wait for you.

For a thousand summers, I will wait for you.

Till you're back beside me, till I'm holding you.

Till I hear you sigh here in my arms.

If it takes forever, I will wait for you.

For a thousand summers, I will wait for you.

Till you're back beside me, till I'm holding you.

And forevermore sharing your love.

Till you're here beside me, till I'm touching you.

And forevermore, I will wait for you.

 

 

 

The End.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A link to the picture of another fairy pool, the one mentioned in this chapter.
> 
> https://alexhyde.photoshelter.com/image/I00009bsWT3xoFZs
> 
> Here's a link to the song played at the end of this fan fiction.
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Mi57d50pCUw
> 
>  
> 
> I hope you guys enjoyed my little fan fiction! It's my first full length story, feel free to leave a comment! Thanks again for reading!


	16. EXTRA

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I just wanted to thank you for reading this little story of mine. Whether you're a new reader, or one of the readers that came before I made this little extra, I know that you all may need a little band-aid for your hearts after the less than fairytale ending. Well, I've got one just for you! Enjoy!

When Jack heard the knock on the door, he thought for a moment he was dreaming. He had fallen asleep in his chair again, bottle of booze set on the table just beside him. He looked over at the fireplace with tired glazed eyes, still lit and emanating strong heat. It was a bad habit of his: letting the fire go as he fell asleep. Well, if he burnt himself alive it wouldn't be much of a loss. The knocking came again and Jack struggled to pull himself off his chair.

"All right, I hear you!" He cried out. Wait. This felt too familiar. The late night, the loud bashing on his door, even his thought of it being Gabriel. No, he was projecting. He pulled the door open, letting in the cold sea air.

"What do you want?" He grumbled out, closing his weary eyes. Gabriel just couldn't leave him in peace it seemed.

"Home." No. No way. His burning eyes shot open, eyes fixing on the form before him. Her hair was longer but he would recognize those glittering eyes anywhere. Was... was this a dream? It was the anniversary of their first meeting: his brain was conjuring some euphoric dream to keep him from completely plunging into the depths of depression, stirred on by booze. Besides, she didn't speak English except for in his dreams. But the way her hands felt on his arms, the heat on his back and the cold on his chest, it felt too real.

"Princess..." He whispered, afraid to disturb the dream. She gave him a soft smile, pushing her fingers between his own and pulling his hands closer to her. She peered up through thick lashes.

"Jack." Just hearing her, seeing her round soft breasts and hardened nipples peeking through the white nightgown was enough to leave him undone, a complete melting mess in her hands. His knees buckled beneath him, sending him to the ground before her. She gently cupped his face, feeling his scars beneath her thumb. The look she had in her eyes made him weak. Her dress shifted as she leaned down, revealing more of her flesh. He felt the dreamy heat he had felt a year before, his blood boiling and rushing down.

"Damnit, Princess..." He moaned. He couldn't help but nuzzle into her hands, pushing and massaging the flesh of her hips beneath her hands.

"I missed you." She let out a sigh as she leaned over, placing a sincere kiss on his forehead.

"I'm sorry..." She whispered against his skin. Damn it all, he thought to himself. It must be another dream, it was far too sweet to be real. His brain wasn't that kind to him. But even if it was just his mind playing tricks, he was determined to see this through.

 

Jack laid back on the bed, feeling the springs of the mattress groaning and giving into their added weight. She leaned over him, both of her knees planted on the side of his legs. Her fingers trickled up his shoulders, following his arm to his hand. She cupped it gently, leading the open palm to her lips, placing a soft but wet kiss on his wrist. He was already burning alive with her touch, each gentle brush of her fingertips jumping straight to his loins. With each kiss on his palm, she shot a glance at him, a seductive and almost mischievous glimmer in her eyes.

"Princess, mercy..." He breathed out, his chest heaving beneath her. "Be gentle..." She let out a little chuckle and smashed herself against his chest, giving a quick lick to his lips and crashing her lips onto his own, wrestling her tongue between his rough and chapped lips. She was shockingly eager, not holding herself back. Her fingers raked through his shirt, lifting the material up higher until it gathered around his neck. His nipples perked at the cold and she smiled eagerly, gaining her completely undivided attention.

"Pretty..." She mumbled out, wrapping her lips around one perk bud. He let out a loud moan, pushing himself even closer to her, his back arching. Her hands raked down his hips, tugging his pants down enough for her to slide her hands beneath, grasping at his ass cheeks. Another moan rang from his lips and his eyes fluttered closed.

"Where did you...learn this?" He moaned, his glassy eyes falling onto her form. She let out an impertinent giggle, smirking wide. His whole body was on fire, feeling her teeth around his nipples and her nails scratching up his back, wrapping her arms tight around him. He couldn't handle much more, his own erection pressing painfully in his pants. As if she could smell it she leaned up, unbutton his pants and roughly tugging them off his legs, letting them fall to the floor below. The nightgown rose higher over her thighs as she straddled him, and a shudder took his whole body. He felt her wetness against his belly, hot and wanting. Oh god, there was no way he could give her up now. 

"Princess, I love you." He whimpered, his arms shooting out to grab at her hips. Never had someone held his heart so tightly, not letting go even after a year of being separated. She stopped for a moment, putting her hands over his on her hips, rubbing the skin with her thumbs. It was soft and compassionate, the look in her eyes one of complete adoration.

"I..." She looked down, growing silent and Jack's heart nearly crumbled. Even in his dreams he couldn't have her. She would soon run off, just as she had before, just as she would do again. He would wake up in his cold bed, his head pounding and his mouth tasting of bile and booze, and he would be alone again. Just like always. She slipped her nightgown off, tossing it beside them and leaned down on one arm, her other tracing his bottom lip with her thumb.

"Jack..." She leaned down, giving him a gentle peck on his lips. At once his nose tingled painfully and the tears welled so quickly that he had no time to brace himself for the tears. They trickled down his head, over his ears and onto the pillow below.

"Please..." He sobbed softly, pressing his forehead against hers, his fingers digging almost painfully into her hips. "Please don't leave me again..."

"Never." She stated. Her lips hovered so tantalizingly close, they felt ghostly. He wrenched forward, clashing teeth together and smacking skin. His heads flew up, raking his fingers through her hair, pressing her even closer to him. They broke away, heaving shallow breaths as a string of saliva connected their lips together lewdly. 

"One more..." He moaned. She smiled into the next kiss, their tongues wrestling and lips smacking together. He continued to chant one more, one more. Each kiss was so fleeting, so sweet and loving and full of desire. God, this was sure to end. When would it end? If he continued any further, his brain would wake him up and he honestly didn't know if he could live with himself if he did. Her fingers traced down his belly between them and he felt her two fingers gently prove herself, her knuckles brushing against his length. Her eyes stared right into his, teasing him, daring him to act. There was only so much he could take, this was the final straw! He flipped her over, pressing her firmly against the bed beneath him. His two rough fingers went down to replace hers, slicking against her wet folds. She let out a haggard gasp, her hands grasping tightly to his shoulders. Her nipples looked so sweet before him, and he kneeled over to give them an experimental lick. One of her hands smacked against his head at the force she moved to grab his hair, pushing him even closer to her bosom. His calloused finger brushed against her clit and she sucked in a breath of air, her back arching.

"You're so wet." He pulled his hand away, bringing it to his lips and smearing her scent against his bottom lip like lipstick, reveling in her sweet taste. Another moan trickled from her lips as she grabbed him close, kissing his lips sweetly.

"Please, please!" She echoed, her nails scratching down his back. Oh damn, her nails wracked his spine with shivers. He grabbed himself, giving it an experimental pump before lining up to her entrance. She laced her fingers in-between his, letting him pin her hand over her head, her breasts bouncing prettily at the motion. Her eyes fluttered softly, and she met his eyes with her own glazed ones.

"I love you, Jack." She whimpered behind her hand. There was no doubt in his mind that this was not a dream. He gently thrust into her, feeling her warmth engulf his length. They both moaned loudly, their sounds swallowed in the kisses. Damn, this was too good! Too sweet, too soft too good! She was back in his arms! She had come to stay! He lifted her legs over his shoulders and thrust again, hitting even deeper inside her. Her arms reached out to pull him close again, hands grasping, and he took them both in one hand, pinning them over her head. His other hand massaged her breast, rolling the nipple between his fingers. He could already tell by how she whimpered, shivered and gasped beneath him that she was close, and he was too. He leaned down for another kiss, her taste intoxicating.

"Jack!" She moaned as he thrust even harder, driving her further into his bed. She was his, only his, forever! He had waited, oh yes he had waited like a good boy. She had kept him waiting. But she was here now, and he forgave her. He forgave her over and over, with each thrust and each kiss and each beat of his heart. His hips flinched involuntarily as he came with a growl, pulling his little mermaid even closer to his chest. Waves of white flashed behind his eyes, their teeth mashing and tongues entangled together. Each wave of pleasure rippled down his spine making his whole body tremble. Damn, how many years had it been since he had truly made love? Had he ever? He looked down, his little mermaid smiling happily beneath him, her eyes glittering like a thousand stars.

Well, there was a first time for everything. And though it was the first time he had fallen in love with a mermaid, he knew it was the last. And it was the sweetest love of all. She was there to stay, never to roam again.

And they lived happily ever after.


End file.
